King of Dreams
by Selenite
Summary: After 3 years of unavailing research, Jane meets a strange, dark-haired MIT graduate, whose brilliant mind may be the key to a breakthrough. But no one could have guessed that she might be the key to his lost memories. Eventual Lokane.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the story of Thor nor any of the characters involved.  
><strong><br>**I am also not a native english speaker, so thank you, **DanPhantomCrush**, for the revision and editing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: Prologue <strong>

_The love we had has fallen_

_The love we used to share_

_You've left me here believing_

_In love that wasn't there…_

_(Yes; Changes)_

* * *

><p><em>April 2011 - two months after the last contact…<em>

ooOOOoo

Jane felt ever so slightly desperate.

She had spent half the day installing a potentially very useful device, but now that everything was as it should be, the thing refused to work. And after ten minutes of gimmicking with her computer, with white noise as the only result, she was beginning to get a serious head-ache.

A voice filtered through, into her tiny, focused world. "Jane, what are you doing? Everyone's outside!" It was Eric from the front door of the lab. Jane made herself let go of the problem for a moment, and looked up, curious. She needed a breather anyway.

"What..?"

"Come on, you'll see. " Eric beckoned to her, and headed back outside.

Jane's heart leapt. _Could it be...?_

How could she have missed something like _that_? Suddenly exhilarated, she ran out of the now abandoned building, into the dusty dirt of the New Mexico desert, then stopped abruptly. The light was wrong; it was strange, dim. She stared up, into the sky.

"_Aurora borealis._" Eric breathed only a few feet away, fascinated. "I saw it a few times when I was younger, but this exceeds everything."

Jane watched the beautiful slow dance of the charged particles just within Earth's ionosphere. But unlike the others around her, the sight made her feel deeply disappointed. Sad. Another hopeful moment, dashed almost as fast as it arose. Her eyes filled with tears, so she defiantly raised her head a bit higher, focusing on the fascinating shades of bright green spreading across the starry sky.

"Here?" she finally spoke, her voice trembling just a little. "It's too rare to be just a coincidence..."

"I thought so too. But I've done some checks and it seems perfectly normal. Nothing less, nothing more." Erik frowned. "I'm sorry, Jane. But I thought you'd like to see it. And well...maybe it does have some connection. I'd bet things like space travel have to leave some sign in the magnetic field and the particle population in the space nearby." He glanced over, and saw Jane's wet cheeks.

"Don't worry. It'll be all right someday." Erik sighed and gently rubbed her shoulder. Then he looked up, and it took a while until he spoke again.

"When I last saw this heavenly show, an old friend of mine was with me. He said it had always been a sign of coming changes."

"Yes? And what's going to change?" Jane asked him hopelessly.

"We'll see." He said and continued watching the green light. "We'll see for sure."


	2. Jealous Heart

Many thanks to Lady of Silentia for the revisions!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Jealous heart <strong>

_Work my fingers to my bones_

_I scream with pain _

_I still make no impression…_

_(Queen; Flick of the Wrist)_

* * *

><p><em>November 2013 - 2 years and 9 months after the last contact…<em>

ooOOOoo

"Janie, dear?" Eric called carefully, poking his head into her office.

"Huh?" Jane sighed, not looking away from the screen of her computer.

"The guests are here. It's time." He tried again, pointing at his watch.

She turned finally. "Did you say _guests_?"

"Correct. Did you read the email?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Too much work, I guess." She added apologetically.

"Well, Professor Callahan is bringing a student along."

"What? You mean a post-doc?" Jane raised an eyebrow.

Eric smiled nervously. He knew what would come. "No… He's a PhD student."

"What year?" she asked, with a hint of disbelief and anger.

"First…?" He said slowly, knowing that this was the wrong answer.

She frowned. "Callahan's gone insane or what? With so much work to be done, I really have no spare time to take care of someone who just graduated. I'm sorry but this is…" she sighed again, half with annoyance, half with resignation.

"Well, it doesn't seem so bad. I've heard he's actually pretty good - he got the degree in two years. Quicker than you, I think." Eric tried to lighten the situation, but it seemed the effect was quite the opposite.

"Splendid!" Jane rolled her eyes. "Anything else? Wait, let me guess. He's got a higher IQ than you and me combined?"

"165, if I remember rightly. That's not bad."

Jane stood up, putting her hands on the desk of her table. "Tell me Eric, how long exactly have you known about this?"

He shrugged. "For about a week." He confessed vaguely.

"What?" She leaned over the desk menacingly. "And you informed me just by some email you sent… When? Yesterday, late night? Or even today?"

"I'm sorry Jane, but I knew you would not like it." He apologized.

"Well, I do not, true. But anyway, it's been already approved by the director I guess?"

Eric nodded.

"So what are we talking about?" She inclined her head.

"Jane, I know, it has been rushed a bit, but… It's complicated. The guy was supposed to go to CERN, but in the end, Callahan's fellow had pushed his own candidate through. Garo was really mad about it, I can tell-"

"Aw, what a pity. So he's coming here instead?"

"Yep."

"Great. There's always a place for an extra nerd." Jane retorted, collected the crumpled papers and stuffed them into the bin.

Eric folded his arms in front of him and leaned against the closed door. "Look, Jane, to be honest, it's high time for us to start taking in new students. Otherwise I do not see any sense in what we are doing anymore."

But Jane grabbed a writing pad and just stared at him, not responding. "You said it was time. Shall we?" Ignoring Eric's comment completely and openly, she spoke at last and walked to the door.

ooOOOoo

"We're late." Eric assumed when he noticed that the data-projector had been already switched on and the conference room filled with people. Even Darcy was there and that meant they were late indeed. "Sorry!" He apologized, as he and Jane entered the room. They proceeded around the table and took the seats next to Darcy. "Where have you been? The director's getting nervous." She snapped at them promptly.

Jane tried to explain, however, the director had stood up in the meantime and cleared his throat meaningfully. "Now then, I see we've all gathered in the end," giving Jane and Eric a quick, sharp look, he joined his hands in front of him. "So I believe we can start todays' lecture. It is my great pleasure to welcome here my old friend. To those who do not know him yet, it is Professor Garo Callahan from MIT. He's a great scientist, a great man and I really appreciate the opportunity to spend some time together. He comes with his new PhD student, um…" He glanced at the papers he was holding. "Leonard Wednesday. Well, Garo, would you care to say a few words before we begin?"

Professor Callahan nodded, stood up and moved to stand at the head of the table, the projection screen behind him. He was about 60 years old but still very lively. He was a man of short figure but great mind. His merry face was almost always smiling. He looked exactly the same as Jane remembered him since his last visit.

"Thank you, Jim. Well, I am very glad to be here with you again; to be at the place where the science touches the most challenging questions of the universe. And of course, to see all the known faces after almost a year." He smiled widely. "However, I would not like to slip into some senile chatter, so now I'll pass the word on Leonard - he will give the presentation today. I believe I'm not exaggerating when I say he's one of the most brilliant people I've ever met. His talent for this particular branch of science is outstanding, not to mention he's a great companion. So I hope we will all get together well and begin a fruitful cooperation. So, Leonard, the stage is yours."

Jane raised her head to see who it was. The young man sitting near the projection screen stood up and exchanged places with his professor. The first thing that caught the eye was how tall and lean he was, quite the opposite of the old man. He bent down to Callahan to hear him whisper the last few encouraging words, then the professor patted him on his shoulder and sat back down.

"Thank you, prof…" the young man began, but was stopped right after.

"Louder, please!" someone said.

So the presenter cleared his throat and continued; his voice more intense this time. Jane tried to take a detailed look at him before the lights got dimmed. He appeared to be very... Likable. _Or even handsome?_ Jane decided to save that thought for later. Next she noticed that he had his long raven hair bound in a pony-tail, high on the back of his head, so his delicate, angular face and the rather intriguing eyes were fully revealed. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing a watch and a metal chain around his wrists. _Well... At least he's not ugly_, Jane concluded.

"Thank you, professor, for your kind introduction." He looked at Garo and smiled lightly. Then he viewed the auditory. "Just before we begin I wanted to say that I am also very grateful to have the opportunity to be here, for I know the deal was a bit rushed. Still, I hope to be of some help to you and to gain a worthy experience as well." He rubbed his hands. "So, now I would like to introduce to you our research group, the latest results and some future plans regarding the starting project."

And there Jane realized she liked his voice. It was soft and comforting, a smooth, melodic flow. She recalled that after about five minutes of every presentation certain people, including Darcy, would usually fall asleep. But this was not the case. Jane did not know how he was doing it, but everyone, including Darcy, seemed to be interested. She felt a small poke on her arm. It was Darcy.

"He's cute, isn't he?"

"Yeah, whatever." Jane answered, focusing on the equation being presented. She decided to intervene. "Um, Mr. Wednesday?" She raised her hand. He stopped talking and looked at her.

"Yes, please?"

"I just wondered… could you please derive this equation?" she asked. Some people turned their heads to throw nervous looks at her and a heated murmur could be heard in the auditory. Jane suddenly realized she'd asked him to do a rather uneasy and time-consuming job and bit her lip. She was being nasty. Leonard exchanged a few silent words with his professor. Then he looked at his watch and spoke.

"Well, I could but I'm afraid we will have to postpone the lunch a bit."

Someone laughed.

She looked around nervously. "Of course you don't have to take it from Schrödinger. Just quickly, please."

"All right." Sighing, he left his presentation, crossed the room to switch the lights on, then marched back to the whiteboard, took the black felt-tip pen and started. And if the speech before was interesting, this was just fascinating. Jane had to admit this guy was definitely aware what was math and quantum mechanics all about. After some five minutes he stood back and looked at his work, then at Jane. She was going through the symbols and equations with her eyebrows knitted tightly together. He looked back at the board then, muttered quietly and rubbed a minus sign off. But then he wrote it again.

"Mr. Wednesday, it's…" Jane tried but he did not seem to pay attention. "Mr. Wednesday?" She tried again, louder. He straightened and looked at her. "That's enough, I think. I'm impressed. Thank you."

"Oh. You're welcome." He answered, looking a bit surprised. "Can I continue the presentation?"

"Please." She nodded and gestured at the screen.

In reaction, he went to switch the lights off and resumed the presentation. Jane felt a poke again. "You were able to follow that?" Darcy asked.

"I tried." Jane uttered, eyebrows still furrowed.

"It was phenomenal, I think." Darcy continued playfully.

"Please, spare your comments for the discussion, ok?" Jane retorted.

And as Jane expected, there was a rather heated debate after the presentation. Jane knew that she would have definitely gotten nervous being asked so many questions, but it seemed like answering complex queries was Leonard's second nature. _Is there anything he doesn't know?_

She suddenly felt somewhat uneasy and excused herself. Her next steps led her to her office. _I have more interesting things to do, after all._ She mused, but then she looked at the report for the director she had to finish this afternoon. _Well, maybe not interesting but definitely more important. _She thought and sat down to get on with the job._  
><em>

However, after some time, Jane realized she was getting really hungry and her eyes refused to look at the stupid report anymore. It was surprisingly warm today, considering it was the beginning of Novemeber, and she realized she had to drink. So she stood up, stretched, and left her office and headed to the water reservoir. The one on this floor was already empty, so she was forced to go downstairs, hoping that the endless discussion was finally over. _Why, it should be._

As she reached the spot and started pouring the water, she heard a creak of the door. She turned slightly and saw Leonard leaving the restrooms. His shirt was unbuttoned at his chest and the sleeves were still rolled up. It appeared he did not notice her presence. He just breathed for a moment, looking down, and then he bent down and brought his hands to his face, sighing deeply. A few drops of water fell down on the floor.

Having watched all of it, Jane wanted to ask if everything was ok, but the door in front of him suddenly opened and the director, Professor Callahan, and Eric walked out of the conference room. Leonard straightened quickly and wiped his hands to his shirt.

The three companions were talking lively and laughing. Finally, the director took Leonard's hand and spoke.

"Congratulations again, Mr. Wednesday, great job. Well, the bureaucracy is done, so now you and Garo can go with Eric and manage the last necessities. You'll receive the keys of your rooms then. So, have a nice time, guys, I have to go. Oh!" he exclaimed when he noticed Jane. "And that overly curious, but nonetheless charming being over there is our Dr. Jane Foster. Come on, Jane." He beckoned.

Jane woke up of sorts and realized the water was still running, flowing out of the cup and down to the floor, forming a small bay around the reservoir and her feet. "Ah! I'm sorry…" She quickly turned the tap off and wiped her hand to her pants. She paced towards the group and noticed a small smile on Leonard's face. He took her hand.

"It's my pleasure to finally meet you in person, Dr. Foster. I've heard so much about you." His voice sounded even more comforting from this proximity.

"Nice to meet you, too." She said simply and raised her head to face him.

And she was stunned. She had never seen eyes like these before. Such a green color, depth and… sadness. She thought that Tolkien must have meant something like this when he was describing the eyes of the elves. But then she realized Leonard was literally staring back at her.

Her eyelids fluttered. "Mr. Wednesday? Is everything ok?" she asked curiously. He blinked, surprised.

"Yes, I… I just wondered... Have we met before?"

Jane finally managed to look away from his eyes. "Um, no, I suppose. I'd certainly remember that... I think."

"I see." He rubbed at his eye.

She noticed he looked a bit dizzy. "Are you all right? Is there anything I can do for you?" Jane asked with a bit bigger portion of concern than she intended.

"No, thank you, you're very kind. It's just too hot today. I need to get accustomed to this weather." He smiled wearily.

"Yeah. So, um... get well and have a nice time." She answered, smiling slightly.

"Same to you." He said and left with Eric and the others.

_Strange guy_, Jane thought as she watched them.

ooOOOoo

As Jane had expected, the following days and weeks and months were a struggle. Questions, explanations, consultations… But most of all, she had begun to hate one particular sentence. She liked Garo, but whenever she heard 'Miss Jane, would you consult this with Leonard?' she got mad. She had her own work to do and definitely had no time for any distractions. She would even skip the lunch at times, just to have a moment for herself.

But after all, she had to admit that Garo was actually the one in need to be taught and reassured constantly. Leonard, on the other hand, was asking only when necessary. Every time he was taught something new he remained still, listening carefully, his curious eyes focused. He seemed to be very perceptive; sometimes Jane could not stop observing him – the way he took in new information and ideas, the way his eyes twinkled as they reflected the constant torrent of thoughts flowing through his mind… it was amazing in a way.

However, too soon Leonard learned everything he needed. With him, it seemed like quantum mechanics and IT technologies or quantum mechanics in combination with IT technologies were just a piece of cake. Day after day, he was getting better, and what was the worst, better than she ever was. Some of his ideas were just brilliant, but it was supposed to be _her_ ideas. No matter how hard Jane tried, it seemed that Leonard was always a step ahead.

And it just made Jane feel desperate. Useless. Unneeded. And whenever she was lying in her bed, her eyes closed, she hated herself for being so envious inside, and even more for displaying so much undeserved arrogance toward him. Jane knew she wasn't like this, not really, and yet she could not help it. Yes, that was it. Most of all, she felt helpless…

ooOOOoo

_Now, where's that stupid book?_ Jane fumed, fluttering about her office. Eventually, she marched out the door and spied the corridor. However, then she just turned back and re-entered her office, her hands running through her hair. This day was clearly turning out to be a complete disaster so far. In about half an hour, she was supposed to drive to the headquarters for the monthly meeting. Not to mention it was a terribly long and tiring journey, in addition she had promised to bring some news this time. The meeting with the SHIELD representatives was going to be awkward and boring without this particular outcome.

If only she could just find the book, finalize the computation protocol and start the process. Ok, she wouldn't be able to present it, but at least, she could say it was in progress. After a weeks' fight, Jane had been finally able to book the server for today, but without her book it seemed it was completely in vain. _Just why couldn't I copy the data to my computer at least? _Jane asked herself, hitting her temple with the inner side of her wrist.

_I must have left it somewhere. No, it has to be here…_ But she had searched everywhere in her office, turning it into a complete mess. _C'mon, Jane, think, where have you left the book, where did you see it last?_ It was useless. She went out the office again to pace though the corridors back and forth, and then… she saw it. It was on the copier. It was left opened.

She ran quickly and grabbed the book. She went through the pages impatiently and stopped at the last one. She noticed that someone else had been writing in it. Just a few comments and equations. And no matter how angry it made her, it was making sense.

_Who was it…?_ She looked about with a menacing look. Jane remembered Eric doing it a few times, but she knew he would not tease her like this. He was perfectly aware of the mood Jane was in. He would not risk it. And on top of that, this was definitely not Eric's handwriting. This one was smooth and elegant, space-saving but still very clear. The ends of the letters were a bit tilted - exactly as in the case of Mozart's notes when the composer's hand was not quick enough to follow his thoughts.

But then Jane noticed a small arrow pointing at a text she had crossed through before. Under the arrow, there was a note that was beginning with _"Not a bad idea, but…"_ At this point, she had enough.

"Who was it…" she said aloud through gritten teeth. She paced nervously around the corridor again, poking in the other offices. When she was passing Eric's office she noticed a certain person handling some papers. And it looked like said person was separating copies from originals. It was _him_. It must have been.

Jane stormed inside and banged her book on his table. Leonard looked at her curiously, removed the headphones from his ears and focused on her.

"Who do you think you are, Mr. Wednesday?! What possibly gives you the right to take away someone else's property?" she exclaimed, filling with rage.

"Pardon me, Ms. Foster, but I did _not_ take anything away." He said quietly, yet distincly. "If you mean your book, I left it exactly at the same spot I'd found it." He remained perfectly calm, his piercing eyes studying her. He looked almost amused. And it was driving her insane.

"Oh, really?" Jane almost squeaked with anger. "Well, at least I thought someone of your intellect would know that looking in personal belongings is considered quite impolite."

"I know, thank you for the kind reminder." He looked back at his papers and resumed sorting them. "However, your _property_ was left opened at the top of the copier, and as I needed to use that particular copier, I had to remove the book. And as you will surely agree, everyone is usually looking at the things they are handling." He continued, his voice still unbearably steady.

"Ah, thanks for the explanation!" She laughed. her voice full of sarcasm. Then she came closer. "Anyway, it does NOT give you any right to read _or_ write in it. Spare your splendid ideas for yourself next time, would you?"

He sighed and turned to her. "Believe me, Ms. Foster, now I feel deeply sorry for what I did. I promise it won't…"

"It won't happen again?" Jane cut in furiously, not letting him even finish the sentence. "Is that what you wanted to say? Well, it won't. I'll make sure it won't." And she left.

After that, Jane shut the door of her office violently, threw her book away and fell into her chair, her hands on her face. She sighed deeply. She did not feel like working on the calculation protocol any time soon. Definitely not in the next half an hour she had left. She sighed again, resigned. _What the hell was that, Jane?_

She felt tears coming out of her eyes. She wiped them out angrily and realized there was nothing better she could do but leave. So she collected everything she needed for the meeting, switched her computer off and left her office.

She bumped into Eric outside. "No questions." She handed him her book. "Please, if you find some time, look at the latest protocol and try to run the computation - the server is booked for today. I just… was not able to finish it. Don't wait for me. Good luck." And she walked away.

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><p><strong>So, surprise, surprise! ;P :) Anyway, what do you think?<strong>


	3. The First Interlude

Many thanks to Lady of Silentia for the revision!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: The First Interlude<strong>

_And the Earth becomes my throne_  
><em>I adapt to the unknown<em>  
><em>Under wandering stars I've grown<em>  
><em>By myself but not alone<em>

_I ask no one_

_And my ties are severed clean_  
><em>Less I have the more I gain<em>  
><em>Off the beaten path I reign<em>

_(Metallica; Wherever I May Roam)_

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><p><em>April 2011, Texas...<em>

ooOOOoo

Jeanette was slowly and attentively returning to her stand. It was quite cold tonight, and a subtle breeze chilled her cheeks. But apart from this, everything seemed to be fine. Excellent. Just one hour left and her first nightshift would be over.

It wasn't too hard to stay awake and focused all the time, after all. Perhaps because it was her first time on duty.

She had not met all her colleagues yet, but she knew that there were hard times ahead to earn their full respect. She knew that there were no other women on her team. She had not even met any women on the grounds today.

_Well, except Betty, the gatekeeper._

It made her feel a bit strange, but proud at the same time. She had been chosen because she deserved it. Because she was good. _Freakin' excellent._

The whole situation was exciting in a way, but mostly just for her. Her friends and family would ask and she would recount how she watched over everything, filled in all the reports, how she passed the stand to another shift without any complication…

She sighed. _But that is not exciting at all. But that building behind me, that's something else entirely. It holds all the interesting things. Oh yes, it does._ She wondered how many human lives could have been taken by that power which was now hidden and silent. _No, that's not the right way of thinking._ In fact, she hoped that all the ammo and explosive stuff would stay there forever and fall apart under the power of time. _But who would tell what these walls are hiding if we were not standing here with guns and everything?_

_No, I'm not interested in any kind of trouble. Not tonight._

_But when I get used to it, it will turn in a terrible boredom._

_Unbearable, terrible boredom._

But not tonight…

The breeze got stronger and turned into a fresh wind. Without thinking, she switched the flashlight on and looked around.

_That's ok, Jeanette. Everything's fine. Your gun's ready, you've checked ten times at least, there's no need to get worried._

It was just a mere thought, just a feeling. _And look what it's doing with you! Stop it right now!_

Jeanette observed the area for the last time and breathed out so quietly that the sound vanished under the wind. She turned the light off.

And then, suddenly, her attention was caught by something unexpected. Well, by something coming from an unexpected direction, to be exact. She looked attentively up to the western sky. _What is it?_

It began very slowly. At first, it resembled fog or a cloud floating silently across the sky until it vanished into the air. But then, colors appeared. The green was most distinct.

_That's… an aurora? Here?_ Jeanette turned around. Mainly because she wanted to check if she was still standing where she was supposed to. Without a sound, the green reflections spread across the skies in a moment, and a whirl appeared in the center. In the middle of the whirl, small beaming objects began to emerge and fall.

On the way down, the matter of the objects lessened, emitting sparks like a firework. It was so perfectly peaceful, silent and beautiful.

_Do the others see it, too?_ She touched her walkie-talkie, but then saw something different coming. The closer it was, the more intensively it shone. Jeanette realized that the thing was heading toward her, but she could not move. In the end, she just watched, fascinated by the impact which was just about fifty yards away from her.

Jeanette watched the groove appearing behind the fallen object and the rolling and growing mass of mud that it was pushing until the kinetic energy was depleted and it came to a halt.

"Third patrol speaking. Unknown object just fell right in front of me. I'm going to take a look."

"Understood." A voice filtered through the crackling noise. "Shall we send someone?"

Jeanette was thinking. _Yeah, maybe. But…_ "No, there's no need at the time. I'll make it."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Stay in touch, I'll let you know soon." she retorted a bit angrier than she intended and moved towards the mysterious object.

_Should I switch the light on? Well… yeah, I think._ Jeanette stopped for a moment and switched her flashlight on shakily. She felt her body trembling, but she managed to keep her finger on the trigger still and ready.

"Is… eh, is anyone there?" _Now, that was a bit pointless._

She stepped closer.

And in that moment, her heart stopped with horror.

She just inhaled sharply, but apart from this, she was frozen stiff.

_That was a hand!_ Someone's hand… someone was trying to scramble out of the groove!

_What an awful noise,_ she thought. _Wait, it's… it's me!_ Yes, it was her scared breathing. _You whine like a puppy, Jeanette,_ she realized and pressed her hand that held the flashlight tightly to her chest.

No, it was not an earthquake. The light emitted by her flashlight was just shaking along with her wrist. Her legs felt rooted to the ground when the mysterious figure managed to get out of the groove and stand just a few feet from her.

It was a tall man with long black hair and pale skin. He shielded his face from the light. He would have looked quite normal, if he had not been wearing a golden-and-green armor and a cape.

Jeanette did not have a clue how she managed to do this, but after a while, she moved her hand and dimmed the light.

"W-who are you?" she stuttered, almost whispering. The unknown person was watching her silently; then looked around and up to the sky. And just then Jeanette noticed another strange thing. Tears. His cheeks were wet with tears.

"Do you understand? Do you speak English?" she tried. Silence.

"It was you who fell from – from the sky?" She hesitated. _Who would have guessed I would ever ask such a question? From the sky…_

"How could you…" She came back to her senses. "Just how the fuck could you survive this?" She continued with anger, disbelief and amazement in her voice. "Look at you, you're perfectly fine!" Well, this was definitely not the exact way how to handle the intruder, but Jeanette was momentarily quite indisposed to observe any protocol.

"So this is Midgard." The stranger spoke calmly and clearly, like falling from the sky was his daily routine.

"What?" she frowned, "Look, I'm the one in possession of a gun here, ergo I'm the one asking questions. You seem to understand English pretty well, so tell me, who are you and what do you want here?"

_Yeah, you have a gun._ Jeanette felt a bit more confident. _But the question is – does it really matter here?_

In that moment she heard a very strange and very suspicious clicking noise.

"A gun, you say?" the stranger spoke again, this time with confidence and amusement in his voice. "Well, does it work?"

Jeanette turned away a bit and tried the trigger. Nothing happened. She tried everything she could think of, but every single lock would not move.

"What the… Oh crap!" she exclaimed and threw away her weapon. "You did this?! How?" she asked him desperately and took a few steps back.

"There, there… It seems that our little girl is not so self-assured without her gun. Now, who is the one asking questions?" he spoke amusedly, with a hint of menace. But suddenly he hissed with pain, caught his chest and staggered a bit as he tried to come closer. Finally he stopped, slouching deeply, and breathed heavily.

Jeanette hesitated a bit. She stood there petrified, only her hand was slowly but surely crawling to grab her transmitter.

"They won't hear you." The stranger pointed out through gritted teeth.

_How does he know? Why won't they hear me?_ Jeanette decided to act. In a second, she threw the flashlight away, switched the transmitter on and grabbed her knife swiftly.

She predicted his move precisely and jumped aside. She was about to deal a blow to him, but he was faster and dodged it easily. It was quick, just a few swift movements. But in the end, she was glad to break out of his reach.

_The bastard is incredibly fast. Even if he's injured._ If he had been all right, she was sure she would stand no chance against him.

She waited, crouching to the ground and listening to the white noise coming from her transmitter_._

They were both out of reach of the light cone of the flashlight. However, Jeanette realized that the flashlight was not needed anymore as the entire landscape was perfectly illuminated by the unknown phenomenon above them.

All was quiet around; the only sound coming from the stranger who was breathing so heavily. The pain made him bend forward again; his left arm placed on his chest. But he was still watching her intently. Jeanette thought that she had never seen such green eyes before. Maybe, under different circumstances, she would have been very interested in him. But not now. Not like this.

"What's up? Come on, bring it!" she tried to provoke him.

However, the intruder did not answer. He just looked up instead.

Jeanette could not take her eyes off him, but then the entire landscape was flooded by a blinding glare. She slowly turned around, covering her eyes. When the light weakened, she noticed a giant golden dome with a thorn-like thing attached emerging from the whirl up in the sky.

It was spinning around a shifting axis and the thorn emitted a bright beam that flickered like it was losing and gaining back some unknown power source. Strong wind came as they heard a terrifying, deafening sound. Jeanette stood up but shrunk back a bit upon noticing the stranger standing right beside her. But he seemed to have nothing left up his sleeves. He just watched. Then, almost absentmindedly, he said just one word.

"Bifrost."

"Bi-what?" She asked, confused.

And then she realized what was going to happen as she watched the light beam slice the building next to them in two. Simply, like a knife running through a piece of butter.

She breathed in and out. "Listen, is there something bad you have done?" She asked with a strange calm in her voice. She spoke just loud enough to push her words through the wind.

"Yes." He answered simply.

"Well, then do regret it and pray for forgiveness. 'Cause we're going to die now."

The siren sounded and Jeanette covered her mouth with her hands. "Here it comes." She uttered as tears welled up in her eyes.

_No, this duty was not boring at all…_

She saw the first explosions and then closed her eyes, resigned, and waited for the blow.

But it did not come. The blinding light that had been getting through her eyelids was shaded. And silence. Terrifying silence engulfed her. Only a strange, muted noise that reminded her of a distant storm could be heard.

Jeanette realized that the stranger was holding her tightly, his arms wrapped around her. When she opened her eyes, she saw the flames, pieces of torn buildings, dust and stones flying past them with amazing velocity and fading away far behind her back. Everything was shattering on some invisible barrier in front of them.

Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears. She was trying to catch her breath, but she realized that there was not much oxygen left to inhale.

"I can't breathe." She faltered, clutching at the edge of his cape. "How… how long will that shield last?"

But he seemed to encounter the same problem. His heavy breathing turned into wheezes. He looked over his shoulder. The light beam that caused all of this was approaching them.

"It would have lasted long enough." He gasped. "But I can't go against this. I apologize."

"You don't have to. It'll be all right…" Jeanette breathed and closed her eyes for the last time in her life.

_No, this job was not boring at all…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Now, to give some explanation: This chapter is a part of another time line of my story. It is the first part of a series of interludes that will focus on Loki and his fate after appearing on Earth. I hope you will enjoy this point of view, too! See you next time, and please review:)<strong>_


	4. The Little Prince

Many thanks to **Lady of Silentia** for the revisions!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: The Little Prince<strong>

_"What place would you advise me to visit now?" the little prince asked._

_"The planet Earth," replied the geographer. "It has a good reputation..."_

_(Antoine de Saint-Exupéry; The Little Prince)_

* * *

><p>Jane took another sip of her coffee and checked the watch. 0:20 am. <em>Great.<em> She wiped her eyes and tried hard to focus on driving home. She should have arrived hours ago, however, some people had been thinking the other way. _'Miss Foster, you surely know there are certain procedures that have to be done, please, wait a bit longer_.' That was exactly their attitude. Procedures were important, not people. She sighed. If she had to choose the most boring and annoying event in the world, it would be the monthly meeting at headquarters.

Her eyelids were getting heavy, but then she finally saw the shapes of the well-known building on the horizon. _At last! Now, just a quick peek at the computation progress and then sleep._

She parked her car and passed the entrance, catching a glimpse of the gatekeeper watching TV.

_Tough job._ She tought.

She switched the nearest light on and walked up the stairway and through the corridor to Eric's office. She noticed a dim light spreading from the room she was heading to. She shook her head.

"Come on, Eric, you know the doctor has forbidden you to stay awake for so long. And I definitely agree with him." She heard music when she came closer. _Pink Floyd. At least something comforting._

"Eric?" she asked when she entered the room. However, Eric's desk was neat and still, his computer switched off. Just one lamp in the corner of the room was shining. "Is anyone there?" she tried again.

_Strange._ She looked outside the office and checked the corridor. Then she walked back and around the table with huge piles of documents and folders stacked up on it. When she rounded the table, she walked straight into a pile of crumpled papers lying on the floor.

"What's..." she began, but stopped right after. In front of her, there was a familiar, lean figure sitting in the chair, his arms and head rested on the table. "… this." she added quietly. Well, this was a bit unexpected.

She hesitated, not knowing what to do. But then she decided to step over the papers and come closer.

For a while, she observed the regular movements of his chest. It felt really strange to see him like this and hear David Gilmour's beautiful voice singing "_How I wish you were here_" at the same time.

The keyboard was pushed aside. Folded under his arms, there were papers filled with his elegant handwriting. Next to him, she noticed an empty box of chocolate ice-cream. _How can someone possibly eat so much ice-cream? He'll definitely feel sick when he wakes up._

She reached out and poked the mouse lightly to see what the screensaver was hiding. It seemed like the calculation outcome. _It's done already?_ As she went quickly through the record, the excitement started running through her veins. It did make sense, actually.

She felt that this position was getting too uncomfortable and moved to the other side of the chair. And there was her book, lying on another pile of documents. She opened it, curious, at the page with her own calculation concept. Aside from the comments Leonard added, Jane was surprised to see something new. She had to tilt the book into the light to view it properly.

It was a picture. A drawing of a boy sitting on a stone; a few stars above him. He looked sad, had his head in hands and his elbows rested on his knees. The boy was wearing a long coat and boots and there was a sword propped against the stone next to him.

Under the picture, there was a note saying simply _'I am sorry. L.'_

Jane was fighting a smile when she turned to look at the sleeping man next to her. She rubbed her eyebrow. _What does the picture mean?_ It reminded her of something but she could not remember.

She closed her book and realized there was another one. There was a sticker on its hard cover saying 'L. Wednesday'. She thought it was not a bad idea to sign her book, too. She looked at Leonard for a moment and then she pulled his book closer. She opened it on the very first page and raised her eyebrows with a sheer surprise. There was a picture of the same boy she saw a moment ago. But this time the boy was staring at the starry sky above, the sword in his hand pointed to the ground.

Suddenly she realized it looked quite similar to the illustrations in a book she used to read as a child. The Little Prince. _But why? What does it mean?_ Well, there was surely more to Mr. Wednesday than meets the eye…

She felt blush coming to her cheeks. _Now, Jane, are you satisfied? This stuff is really personal, you know?_ She reprimanded herself and pushed the book aside. But then she grabbed it again and went through the pages to the last one filled with writing. There was a new calculation concept. It seemed he had just changed two parameters and it worked out. _How simple. Well, seems like someone got lucky again._

Slowly and carefully, she returned to her original position beside her sleeping colleague.

_My, I have to wake him up somehow._ She was thinking about what to do next, but then she chose just to bend down and observe the movements of the pupils beneath his eyelids.

His face appeared so tranquil. She had to admit his features were impressive; the lines of his eyebrows and cheekbones were just... perfect. Suddenly she felt a bit guilty and looked away.

However, she looked right back as there was a movement. A rip proceeded through a paper he was lying on.

_He definitely won't be pleased._ She mused as she observed the scene.

She moved more to the side and spoke. "Mr. Wednesday?"

But it had no particular effect. "Leonard?" She tried again.

A lazy "Mmmh" escaped his vocal chords. She could not help but smile.

He moved again and the rip proceeded. She bit her lip. _I have to do something._ She bent down again and laid her hand on his shoulder. How strange to touch someone so distant in this way. Another hint of guilt passed her mind, because of how good it felt.

"Leonard? Please, wake up." She spoke again, her voice more intense, and stroked his arm.

A flash of green, and then he shot up, ripping the paper in half; one of the pieces remaining stuck to his face.

"What's..?" He rasped, looking startled and surprised. "Oh no!" he exclaimed huskily and tried to grab the paper piece.

"Shh, wait a sec." She chuckled.

He looked up to her. She came closer and removed the paper carefully, avoiding his intriguing eyes. Then she put the paper halves together and grabbed the tape.

"Would you please hold it like this?" She asked him quietly. He obeyed and placed his long fingers where she was holding the paper. She withdrew quickly as she felt inappropriate warmth spreading from the areas of her skin where he touched her.

Jane fixed the paper halves together and checked her work carefully. She smiled. It looked pretty good.

"I think we did it. What do you say?"

He viewed the paper intently. "Looks as good as new. Thank you." He looked up to her, smiling lightly. Then he noticed the computer screen.

"Oh, it's finished..?"

He studied the outcome for a while, supporting his head with his hand, tapping his cheek with his long fingers, slowly, to the rhythm of another great song, _Shine on you crazy diamond_. Jane smiled to herself. Yes, to some point, this song fitted this situation and this person so perfectly, although it had been written for someone else. For someone else entrirely.

It only took a moment and he seemed to completely forget about her presence. Jane looked around, but then could not resist the urge to observe that unfathomable twinkle in his eyes.

"You reached for the secret too soon… "

She got startled a bit when she heard his voice. But a moment later she realized it was not addressed to her. It seemed he got carried away and was just singing along, his voice quiet, but so clear, and precisely in tune… Her mind was going blank, giving in to that strange atmosphere. She thought that she could listen to this sound for the rest of the night, but…

Slowly, she was getting nervous and was prepared to speak up. But then he suddenly closed his eyes and inclined his head at a very strange angle. Two short cracking noises followed. For a second he remained unmoving and then sighed with relief, bending his head down to the table and covering it with his arms.

Jane straightened quickly. "What was that?" She tilted her head. "Still alive?"

"I'm not too sure." He sounded like he was holding a breath.

Jane chuckled. "Maybe you should reconsider sleeping here the next time."

He turned his head to face her, still lying on the desk. "Not a bad idea." Then he straightened, wiped his eyes and saved the record.

"So..?" Jane asked.

"Sooo… It looks quite reasonable. We'll see tomorrow." He smiled.

Then he stood up and stretched, and walked to the window to take a look outside. "What time is it, actually?"

"0:50 if you ask me." Jane retorted.

"Is it?" he turned to her. "My, it's gotten pretty late. Well, what are you doing here, actually?"

She snorted. "You're asking me? Don't you think I have a better right to ask this question?"

They remained still for a while.

Then he walked back and looked straight into her eyes. "You don't like me." He said.

It was not a question. It was a statement.

And this simple statement hit her unprepared. She felt taken aback. _No, that's not true… or is it_?

"No, I… " _All right Jane, articulate, please. Say something reasonable. Now._

She flailed her arms helplessly and sighed. "I don't know what to say."

He observed her intently. "So… you do not."

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that, you're…" her throat constricted. "All right… " she inhaled and cleared her throat. "I know… I know it must have looked like that, but it's not true. I was just…" She sighed and bit her lip. Then she turned to him. "Have you ever felt like everything you do is in vain? Like no matter what you do or try, there's no improvement? She let out a bitter laugh. "Of course not. How could you?"

"But this is exactly the situation I am in for almost a year now. And nobody cares, everyone is just like 'Well, Jane, that happens, maybe you should focus on something else.' And then, somebody completely inexperienced comes and everything is working. Like it was me who was wrong the whole time, di you understand? But I always…" Her voice failed for a moment. She felt tears falling from her eyes. _Be careful, this is getting too awkward._ She swallowed and tried to continue in a low voice.

"I am not like this, I never was. I hate being so arrogant and bossy, I know you do not deserve it, but… I just couldn't help it, you know?" her voice broke again. She covered her mouth and turned away.

He moved closer to her. "I think I understand what you are trying to say." He spoke softly. "I apologize if I ever offended you."

She wiped her cheeks. "No, you don't have to apologize. But please, understand my situation. This is not me. I'm not like this."

"I know you are not."

"Really?" she turned back. "Well, I didn't give you many opportunities to find out…"

"Still, it was enough." He smiled and leaned against the table.

"I'm so sorry about all of this." She leaned against the table next to him and looked down.

They remained silent and unmoving.

_"Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us_

_To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side…"_

Jane shook her head when the lyrics reached her. Is it_ High Hopes_ now? _Someone must be doing this on purpose_… She was not able to tell how long that moment lasted. But then she raised her head and met his penetrating eyes. It was unbearable. She felt like a stone in her throat was pulling her down and looked away again.

_All right, Jane, now say something more._ She sighed. "Well, do you think… do you think we can start again? I mean… as if anything of this never happened."

"Of course." He moved forward and stood right in front of her. When she straightened, he took her hand. "Nice to meet you again, Miss Foster."

She frowned, sniffling. "Oh, please. Don't call me that. I should have told you at the beginning. Now I feel like some old hag, you know. It's Jane, ok?"

"All right, Jane." He smiled. "So I guess you can call me by my first name as well."

"Ok." She smiled back. "So, nice to meet you again, Leonard. And…" she wiped her cheek. This was a good moment. She felt relieved. "… congratulations on the job with the calculation." She added. "Your parents gave you definitely the proper name, you know."

At this comment, something stirred in his eyes and suddenly he looked very uneasy._ Must have touched an aching spot_, Jane thought.

Something was not right, so she decided to change the topic quickly.

"Well… you don't have a car, do you?" she began in a casual tone, as if nothing happened.

"No." He looked away.

"And am I right in assuming that Garo did not leave his car here for you?"

"Yes."

"Well, of course I can take you home with me now, but can I ask you what exactly were you planning to do if I hadn't come? Stay here until morning?" She asked, wiping her eyes properly when she finally found a handkerchief in her bag.

"Um… I was definitely not planning to fall asleep here, but… it depends on how late it would be. I guess I would just return by myself like many times before. It takes only about 40 minutes by feet. It's quite refreshing. The desert around, starry sky above…" he answered, shrugging, and turned to collect the papers.

She looked around, sighing in disbelief. "Are you insane? It's dangerous! Especially after dark!" she exclaimed.

"Nonsense. Returning to college by night bus is dangerous, not this." He continued, not looking at her.

"What? Do I have to remind you where we are? What about the criminals, the drug dealers and people like that?"

"There's no reason for them to be interested in me. I would not be frightened of that." He displayed the same old perfectly calm attitude.

_It's probably completely useless to argue with him. But still…_

"Oh, really? Then what about me for instance? Would you remain so calm if _I_ was planning to go home through the desert at this hour?"

He stopped and looked at her for a moment. "Of course not."

She folded her arms. "You see?"

"You are not safe in any dark place." He turned the music off.

"What…?"

"You're a woman." He winked at her.

"Hey… Mr. Wednesday?" She laid her hands on her hips and inclined her head.

"Miss Foster?" he looked at her, amused.

Well, that's better. But he definitely likes teasing people.

"All right, I'm giving up. I sincerely intended to take you home with me, but you can go any way you wish. But I warn you, my offer is going to expire in a moment." She smirked. _Maybe I shall join this teasing game, too._

"I do not recall refusing it." He answered in a challenging tone and came closer, placing his intense gaze upon her.

"Well," she looked down, surprised by the warmth coming to her cheeks. "you did not agree, either."

"Then I think I shall accept your most gracious offer." He was very close now.

"All right. Just in time." She almost whispered the answer.

_Jane, what's happening with you?_

ooOOOoo

The way home started in silence. Jane observed the road running away underneath the lights. She was very tired but could not stop thinking about what she had said back then and how sad it had made him. She knew that feeling. She remembered several such situations happening hundreds of times in her life.

She glanced at him quickly. He was looking out of the window, his long fingers tracing some lines on the glass surface.

"I'm sorry Leonard."

He looked at her.

"You know, about that comment I made about your parents. I know how it feels… it's been a long time, but still, it hurts. I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

He sighed. "No, it's ok. However, it's probably not what you imagine."

"And what is it?"

"I thought Eric would tell you."

"Tell what?"

"You see…" he paused. "I don't know who my parents were."

"You're adopted?"

"Kind of."

"What?" she raised her eyebrow. "What do you mean by 'Kind of'?"

He inhaled deeply. "Well, I'm not sure if I should tell you right now. It's a bit complicated and it's getting too late."

"Complicated?"

"I see I have no choice." He smiled bitterly. "Very well. Now, where to begin…" He wiped his eyes and sighed. "The thing is, my life as it is now started almost three years ago. If there was something before, I do not remember. Not a thing."

She turned to him. "What? I mean… how's that possible? You had an accident?" Suddenly she felt very awake.

"That's probably what happened. I'm not too sure. I was found near the area where an accident with the explosive storage took place." He looked uneasy again. Jane was thinking. _Should I keep asking him? It seems it's hard for him to speak about it._

But it sounded familiar to her. "Did you say three years ago? In Texas?"

"Yes."

"I remember that. It was huge. First, everyone was talking about some assault, but then it turned out to be an accident. Well, at least according to all the news. It was very strange."

"Exactly."

"It was at the time when a great aurora could be seen in this territory."

"Yes, I was told later. I'm sorry I missed the opportunity to see it."

"Why so?"

"Well, I was in hospital, fighting for my life, nothing more." He answered with a hint of sarcasm.

"It was that bad?"

"Not at the beginning. They said I was conscious when I was found but it got worse in the hospital."

She frowned. "What? I mean, what were they doing with you?"

"I don't know. I preferred not to ask. They gave up when everything had failed and just waited for my death. But I lived somehow. Well, in the end it seemed like they had made a mistake with the blood transfusion."

"Hah.. This is just unbelievable!" Jane retorted and waved her hand heatedly.

"Even such things may happen." But he appeared to be quite reconciled with the truth.

"You could have died easily!" she exclaimed.

"Still, such things can happen."

"Yeah, that's… great, really." Jane sighed. "I'm glad to know. But anyway, you said you did not remember anything, so what happened next? You must have been… missing or… did anyone care to find you?"

"Actually… no. It seems like I'm all alone." He just stated it as a matter of fact.

"That's just too strange. I cannot believe it."

Jane shook her head. This entire story sounded so weird. But way too familiar to her. _Could it be true? Could he come from that place? And if so, why is he here and where's Thor? It was just… not making much sense._ And even if the craziest theories were true, he had forgotten and believes himself to be a human for almost three years now. He had struggled to find his way to live a new life. It would not be wise to tell him now.

He pulled her down to earth as he continued. "Don't worry, I feel quite the same. It was a very bad situation. I had no memories, no one missed me, I had no identity… Strange people were visiting me, asking questions…"

"What strange people?"

"I don't know, I don't remember them exactly. I think I was suspected for the explosion."

"What?" her eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"And who would not be suspicious? Who knows, maybe you should be more careful around me." He added with a hint of smile.

"Yeah, you definitely look like a terrorist." She added ironically.

"Well, there was no proof I was. But on the other hand, no one can prove I'm not."

She shook her head. "You know, I think people do not change much. So, if you were a villain, you would certainly continue to behave like one. And you are not a bad person."

"I hope so." He replied and remained silent.

Jane bit her lip. She was way too curious. "So, what happened then? Well, if you don't mind answering. Just stop me if it's getting too uncomfortable, ok?"

"It is, to be honest. But I guess I should tell you the story to the end once I started." He was thinking for a moment. "A woman called Sheila visited me almost every day back then. She wasn't very talkative; she always brought newspapers and some food and then left."

"And who was that Sheila? She was the one who had found you?"

"No, no. It was her brother who was on holiday at her ranch with his family. They brought me to the hospital. Later I was told they were visiting me each day before I woke up. But back to the point. When the investigation was over she came with a policeman who showed me profiles of some missing people who looked similar to me. Of course, I did not recognize any of them. So Sheila asked me if I don't mind to be called Leonard. She had called me that the whole time, so I agreed. I was used to it."

"And what about the second name?"

"I think it's not too hard to guess." He challenged her.

"It's the day you were found?"

"Precisely." He smiled.

Jane smiled back. "That's… nice. I like it, you know."

"Well, back then I was just glad to have a name. But later it felt a bit stupid. Sometimes."

"Why? It sounds pretty interesting."

"Does it? Hm." he frowned. "I think it's rather interesting how many people can remember that it's a name of a day but cannot remember which it is. Sometimes it's getting too annoying to explain it's Wednesday, not Monday or Friday or whatever."

She laughed. "I'm sorry, it's just…" she shrugged, "kind of cute."

"Really? One would think life would be much less complicated with such a nice name." he grinned.

"Oh, come on. And why Leonard?"

His features got more serious again. "You see, this is a bit sad as well. The man who found me, Michael, had a son around my age who died in a car accident. It was his name."

"Ah." Jane did not know what else to say. She waited for a moment. "So, Sheila arranged a new identity for you. And what then? Where did you go when they discharged you from the hospital?"

"Sheila took me with her."

"Oh, so you lived in a farm in Texas? How come you appeared at MIT?"

"You are being very impatient, Miss Foster." He looked at her, his eyes a bit more cheerful again.

"Well, Mr. Wednesday, I'm afraid I cannot help it. I'm too curious." _Oh, at last. He seems relieved a bit._

"So… First, you are right; I lived at a ranch in Texas for some time." He continued.

"And what did you do there?"

"Well, what would you say? I just helped Sheila with the household, and all the stuff she had to do. Of course there were some other people to help but still, she was not young anymore and most of the time she felt kind of alone, so she was glad to have someone around, someone she could take care of… " he stretched his long arms. "I was reading books in the evenings, watching cooking shows every Saturday morning…"

"What? Cooking shows?" Jane asked in disbelief, slightly amused.

"Yes. Sheila liked it. I don't know… Is there anything wrong about it? I can prepare the best lemon cream pie in the world since then. Everyone who has tasted it would agree." This time he smiled for real.

She could not help it and chuckled. "I'm sorry again." She tried to explain, her shoulders trembling. "Don't take it the wrong way, I'm not laughing at you. It's just so cute…"

"Unbelievable." He furrowed his eyebrows at her playfully and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, really. Now then, I think I have to come and taste it myself." Jane said when she managed to calm down.

"No problem. I promise to try my best." He stated confidently. "Just let me know in advance so I can banish the cockroach community from the kitchen in time."

"What?" she asked, startled.

He grinned widely. "You don't have to believe everything I say."

"Oh really?" She chuckled. "Well, I'm glad to know." She sighed. "So, where did we end?"

"It was…" Leonard hesitated for a while as he looked around the parking space next to his dormitory. "Are you sure you want to hear it all now?"

"Oh please!"

"All right then." He sighed. "So, after about three weeks, Michael came to visit Sheila again. But this time, it was because of me. He proposed that I come and live with his family in Boston."

"Boston? My, we're getting closer…" She grinned.

"Of course…" he smiled back. "He even offered me a job in the docks. Actually, at first the deal was to stay with them as long as I required for some assimilation and then I would start living on my own. But in the end, it turned out a different way. It all started with the puzzles I think…"

"What?"

"Well, those in magazines. Julie, Michael's wife, loves them; especially the mathematical and logical ones. Once, she was bored, but she found out that all the puzzles in all the magazines and books were solved already. So I designed a few for her and kept her busy the whole afternoon. It became sort of a hobby of mine, I think. I prefered having my mind busy with that rather than with thoughts on my past." He paused.

"Yeah, but how does this relate to..." Jane asked, but was cut off.

"There was a visitor once. A friend of the previous Leonard. He wanted to see me, you know. And... well, Mike and Julie... They were sort of proud of me, I think. Of course they had to talk about that thing with the puzzles and wanted him to see some of them, because he is good at maths and had actually studied at MIT for some time as well. He was quite suspicious and doubted me, so I gave him the most... interesting ones I ever made. He solved some of them and said I should have started a job for a magazine or something. Well, and Julie blurted out: And what about MIT? - We laughed at that at first, but she refused to leave the thought. One thing led to another and finally the friend said he still had some connections at the school. So he arranged an interview. And well, it was Garo who wanted to lose some time with me. I remember spending five hours in his office back then." He stretched his arms again on that note, looking a bit weary.

"And then… you were accepted?" Jane asked again, sheer curiosity in her eyes.

"No, who do you think I am?" he laughed slightly with a hint of irony and surprise. "I'm not such a terrible know-it-all, you know? In fact, it was not easy at all. I think I was very lucky that Garo became so interested in me. Otherwise, I had no chance. I had to learn many things to get there and without his help it would have been impossible."

"Wow, I'm relieved." Jane sighed and patted her chest.

"Why?" he asked, confused.

"Don't take it badly, please, but… I'm relieved that you had to learn and work hard for something. Because you always seemed like you were born with a databank in your head." She waved her arms.

He chuckled. "No, I was not; I can assure you about that. But I wished for it many times."

"Yeah." She smiled knowingly. "So I guess Michael and Julie offered you their support during the studies?"

"Correct."

"It seems they are very generous people."

He sighed. "They are, indeed. I owe them quite a lot."

"And… the former Leonard was Michael's only child?"

At that, Leonard looked out of the window and smiled. "No."

"Oh, so you have gained some… how to put it… siblings?" She bent forward and raised her eyeberows.

"To. Be. Continued." He said simply and turned to face her. He seemed to be enjoying her surprised look.

"What? Oh come on, Leonard! Just a little more."

"Jane, honestly…" he sighed.

"Please…" she inclined her head.

"Yes, I have gained some siblings and now you strongly remind me of one of them." He explained, fighting back a smile.

"Oh, really? And what does she look like?" Jane asked enthusiastically.

"It's not about the looks but the behavior. She's seven!"

Jane frowned, somewhat taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"As I said. No more fairytales tonight, it's time to go to bed, Lady Jane." He stated uncompromisingly but then smiled.

"Hey you!" she retorted playfully. "I'm not a little girl, I'm just curious. You know, a scientist has to be."

"And may I ask in which scientific journal do you intend to publish this data?" He raised one eyebrow.

She shook her head. "You're insufferable, really."

"In that case, if you would excuse me…"

"Come on, I did not mean it." Jane said and yawned a little.

"I know. But I guess it's time to go, anyway."

"Yeah…" Jane answered and looked at him, leaning against the headrest. He was ready to leave when she spoke again.

"Leonard?"

"Yes?"

"May I have one last little question?"

"Regarding?"

"Um… Back in the office, I looked in my book. At the page where I attempted to do the calculation concept. I found the picture from you."

He remained still.

"Is it the Little Prince?"

"It is."

"So… you just like it? Or what does it mean?"

He looked down. "It was the first book I read. It's very special to me. Mostly because the situations and emotions described there are… familiar."

"I see." She answered quietly.

Then he sighed and looked out of the window. "Who knows, maybe there's my own small planet somewhere out there, waiting for me to return."

Jane bit her lip and viewed him intently. She hesitated, contemplating the right answer. She opened her mouth to say something but then he turned to her. "Jane?" he raised a brow. "That was a joke. I'm not an alien."

"Of course." She bowed her head and looked at her hands. A moment of silence passed until he spoke again. "Good night, Lady Jane."

"Same to you." She looked at him. "I guess we deserve to sleep a bit longer today, don't you think? I can come for you at… let's say, 9:30?"

"That would be great."

"Yep. So, see you in the morning."

"In the morning. Thank you, Jane." He smiled at her.

"It was nothing." she smiled back and watched him leave.

_Sleep well, Little Prince. Whoever you are._

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><p>ooOOOoo<p>

**Another disclaimer:** the songs mentioned here belong to Pink Floyd, of course! Thank you, guys for such an epic and wonderful contribution to human culture!

And thank you all for reading, all the Story Alerts and Favorites make me so glad. Thank you for the rewiews you've left so far and please, keep leaving them, it's very stimulating and encouraging, and I need it! :)


	5. The Second Interlude

Thank you, Lady of Silentia, for the language revisions - precise as always!

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><p><em><strong>Important notes:<strong>_

_**Firstly,** many thanks to all my dearest reviewers! I just love your comments - they are inspiring and very encouraging. Keep them coming! ;)_

_**Secondly,** as I indicated in the First Interlude, this chapter belongs to a different timeline, it is a **flashback.** _

_**Thirdly,** I had a really hard time as I was trying to paste some part of the lyrics of "Sad but True" here because this **whole** song inspired me to write the first part of this chapter. Well, if you know this song, you would agree…_

_**And a very important note** – this is written **from Loki's point of view** and I chose to refer to him as** Leonard**, because he alone refers to himself as such._

_And now, finally – enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: The Second Interlude<strong>

_Hey  
>I'm your life<br>I'm the one who takes you there_

_Hey  
>I'm your life<br>I'm the one who cares_

_They  
>They betray<br>I'm your only true friend now_

_They  
>They'll betray<br>I'm forever there…_

_I'm your dream, mind astray  
>I'm your eyes while you're away<br>I'm your pain while you repay  
>You know it's sad but true…<em>

_I'm your truth, telling lies  
>I'm your reasoned alibis<br>I'm inside, open your eyes_

_I'm you!_

_(Metallica; Sad but True)_

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><p><em>Maybe I should write that one down, too.<em> Leonard mused when he observed the hand of Professor Hudson breaking another chalk as he was trying to present another complex equation to the auditorium. Leonard studied the symbols on the board for a moment.

_Nah!_

Before Mr. Hudson was able to lift the broken chalk, Leonard managed to complete the equation in his book himself. Then he looked around the lecture room and reconsidered attending this lecture again. _They say almost nothing more than is written in the textbooks. I could have stayed at the dorm and learned much more by myself…_ He enjoyed the life at the MIT campus so far, but he was slowly realizing that some of the lectures in his schedule were just a pain.

He checked briefly on the text he had written so far. Just three short notes after an hour of the lecture. _Is it enough?_ He asked himself as he saw a student in a row beneath filling the second page with tiny, dense handwriting. He rested his head in his hand and sighed.

Not that the lecture was not interesting itself, but Professor Hudson should definitely work on the way he was giving the speech.

_So boring…_

Leonard felt sleepy although there was no reason. He felt as though each of the dull sentences was gradually sucking away the last bits of his energy.

He wiped his eyes slowly and rested his head on the desk. He trailed his pen to the lower corner of the page, where he drew a few lines. Then he put the pen down and folded his arms under his forehead.

_It's coming again._

Leonard felt that unavoidable moment approaching him. He sensed that his mind would betray him once again. It would lead him, on the wave of associations, to those feared thoughts. _Those_ thoughts.

At the time he had lived with Mike and Julie, when he had worked at the docks, he had no time for thinking. He had had no time for himself. But now it was different. Living at the college, suddenly he had lots of time, even if he chose so many subjects, even if he learned, even if he worked on the weekends. Still, there was a quantum of time he had to spend alone, just him and his mind.

And so it happened. There was no use. His thoughts reached him, hit him unprepared. Exactly the same way as the last week, when he had walked back to the dorm, crossing the park in the evening. He had won the battle that time, but probably just because of his roommate, that strange, silent person, who was passing by. Leonard had promised himself then that he would never let it happen again. However, it seemed he was not the one to decide.

_So, it's coming again…_ That fierce battle against someone in his head. That concentrated feeling of hatred trying to take over.

_What are you doing here?_ The well-known, tiny voice sounded.

_No doubt, this is it. Time to get ready._ Leonard inhaled deeply and leaned his forehead against the desk and covered his head with his arms.

_I learn._ He answered his thoughts calmly.

_And what for? Do you think you really need it?_ The voice insisted mockingly.

_I don't know yet. We'll see. But don't be afraid, I can make some use of it. _

_That's ridiculous! _The voice spat._  
><em>

_No, it's not._ He sighed. _Come on, Leonard!_ He tried to encourage himself as he clutched his fingers.

_What? _The voice changed into a poisonous laughter._ What are you pretending now? This is not your name! It belongs to someone else._

_A little correction – it belonged. Now it's mine._ Leonard objected, attempting to suppress all the emotions.

_Oh, dear. You're so pathetic… it's almost disgusting._ The voice retorted, gaining intensity with each venomous sentence. _Can't you see? You're just a substitute, a mere shadow, and you know it. Why would they invite you, anyway? Why would they care, why would they help you? Because when they look at you, they see him, the other one they'd lost. They pretend to love you, but deep inside you're just a memory of their dead son. It's him they have loved, not you; it's him they have cared about all this time, not you!_

_Enough! _Leonard cried out inside_._ And breathed. Time to continue. _If you know that much about me and the others, tell me, who am I? You know my real name, don't you? And who are you?_

The voice snorted a short laugh of contempt._ Of course I know who you_ were_, of course I know what your name_ was… _but I'm afraid I'm not here to tell you, dear. And who am I?_ The laughter sounded again. _Do you really want to know? Don't you remember what I told you last time? I am the one in the shadows. The darkness. The nightmare._ Your_ nightmare. Don't you forget, sweetheart. It still stands._ The annoying voice announced, sounding satisfied.

_Tell me something I don't know._ Leonard retorted disdainfully. _You don't need to hide behind empty metaphors._

_No? And what__ should I do, then? I can't do anything else, and you don't have any right to blame me. I only do what you do. I lie, I hide and I pretend. For I…_ the voice changed into a sweat, sticky but the more terrifying whisper. _I am you._

Leonard waited a moment, weighing the words he had just heard. Should he be shocked and terrified? Perhaps. But he absolutely must not let it show. Instead, he just smiled. _Very well, my dear, _he answered._ Challenge accepted. But see, you spilled a very valuable information here. Now I know what I'm going to do with you._

The tiny voice spluttered and laughed coldly. _What? No, my dear, you can't do anything. I am the last one you have left._ It declared and became quieter as it changed into that well-known, menacing whisper again, giving emphasis to deliberately chosen words that pierced Leonard's very soul. _Listen to me now. Everyone,_ everyone_ who pretends to care has someone else in their mind in fact. And you? You can't even tell what your roommate is like. You don't know anyone here. You're lonely again, darling, so very lonely. Just as I am. But you see, you are never really alone. Not as long as I am here. And I am_ always_ here, right here. So it's not just you alone. It's you and me. _Do not ignore me, do not cover your ears, it won't help you! It's just us,_ YOU and ME, forever and always. Do you hear me? _It screamed, and Leonard could feel the poison flowing through his veins.

_But that's not true._ Leonard tried, his own inner voice quiet and weak.

_Oh, isn't it?_ The other one wondered.

_No, it's not._ Leonard replied, gathering more confidence. _What about Lena and Daniel? They almost hadn't known their brother. They see me, not him._ Leonard tried to focus his thoughts on Mike's and Julie's children, his new "siblings". The only people he was sure they took him as he was.

_They just behave like their parents. Nothing more._ The voice spat back and ran though his flesh, sharp and cold like an icicle.

Leonard clenched his teeth, his mind searching like insane for something known, something familiar and definite, something comforting, warm and bright. But his memories were restricted from him, still held behind that impassable wall. _No, there's no use._ He knew he had to look at the present, not the past, for there was nothing to comfort him or help him in any way. There was only _that_. The only thing he could be sure he would find there. That creature residing in his mind. His only reminder he had existed ever before.

He felt almost desperate, the world around him fading into blackness. He choked, the sickness becoming more and more physical. But then, when he almost gave in, he remembered something.

Someone.

Someone who had no memories as well. Someone whose mind was blank, waiting to be filled and painted in colors. Someone who was still not fully aware of the world around. Someone who hid the power in weakness. The youngest child. The one who was born three months ago. The one he had had the privilege to give a name.

_Anya. _

He remembered the moment he had held her in his arms for the first time. Such a tiny, little thing. She had been weak, powerless, and reliant, a mere sleeping something. But everyone loved her. They loved her just because she was, there needn't have to be any other reason. Everyone had fallen in love with her and had been saying she was beautiful. And yes, she was.

But Leonard had been thinking about something different at that time. He was amazed at how her defenselessness made him defenseless. Could this be true? Is it possible for one to be the most powerful when they're the most defenless? Could it be the reason to love someone? _Maybe. And maybe that's the hidden power in everyone. But what about me?_ He asked himself. However, there was no one to answer him.

_He's gone. _Leonard sighed in relief. _See, Anya, just the thought of you won this battle for me._ He smiled. _And you'll never know._

Quiet.

The endless silence at last.

Leonard laughed, and relaxed as the head-ache weakened.

Just the short remembrance had the power to bring back that feeling. New and different, almost like his body had never been used to it. That strange warmth arising from his very core.

He had not believed anyone at the beginning. He'd been certain that if he had entrusted someone else than himself, it would make him weak. However, to his great surprise, that exactly gave him the power. The power to fight and overcome the loneliness, and now the other one in his mind. The power to return back to something that was buried deep inside.

He breathed out. _Stay where you are and never come back. Never._ But he knew that this thought was just a mere wish. Leonard knew the other one will return one day… But not now, not today. He was free again.

Finally, he took his pen and continued the drawing. He saw it already. _It will turn into the Little Prince, anyway. Again. But not with the sabre this time,_ he decided and drew the beloved rose into the small hand of the tiny figure.

The world around him started to rise slowly from nothingness. But there was something that disturbed him. It sounded like white noise at the beginning, but then he found out. It was coming from someone's headphones. And that rustle… what was it? He looked around and discovered the source of it. Obviously, it was one of his schoolmates, sitting next to him.

The man was dressed all in black, what actually contrasted with his looks. He was a strong and tall Nordic: his hair, eyebrows, and beard blonde. Even though his figure looked impressive, it appeared a bit comical at the moment, for he didn't seem to know how exactly to get into a comfortable position in his seat. His hair was straight, a bit wavy at the ends, and at least reached his waist. The front tresses were bound together at the back of his head, so they wouldn't fall in his face. Leonard made an internal note to himself that this was certainly a person with the longest hair he had ever seen.

The man seemed he had completely given up listening to the lecture as he was reading a newspaper, had headphones in his ears, and was eating a sandwich. No, eating was not the right word. It was more like feeding the wild animal. Leonard recalled meeting several people of this type on the campus and he had not found them interesting in any way. But this was different. Some details were disturbing – Leonard thought that such long and clean fingers did not fit this person at all…

But in general, for some reason, it felt familiar.

So incredibly familiar.

Despite living this new life for several months now, and despite already getting used to it, Leonard still felt very distant. He just didn't belong, so he was searching, looking for something that would remind him who he used to be. And if not, then at least he wanted to find something familiar, something that was not completely new and unknown to him. And this person, since a very long time, belonged to those familiar things. Although Leonard was not able to tell why.

The man apparently realized he was being watched and gazed back at Leonard. His eyes were the color of a deep ocean. He frowned.

"What?" he spoke in a deep voice, somewhat louder than needed. When the answer did not come, he removed the headphones. "Got a problem?"

"Not at all." Leonard answered, somewhat amused.

"Then what are you gaping at?" The other one asked, watching Leonard cautiously.

"Nothing. I just wondered what makes you stay here since you are not taking any notes. You're not even listening." Leonard explained, unoffended.

The blonde just stared at first, but then grinned and looked into Leonard's book. "But it seems you haven't written much more, have you?"

"I am just sorting the information; making an outline. I can remember the rest." Leonard shrugged.

"Sure." The blonde's smirk was full of sarcasm. "And what sort of wave-function is this?" he asked and pointed at the drawing in Leonard's book.

Leonard felt a bit taken aback now. "It's a… " his look slid to the front section of the lecture hall, and he realized that professor Hudson had meanwhile exchanged the chalk for the data-projector and showed the students different states of the wave-function and related atomic orbitals. "It's a very complex one." Leonard answered finally.

Professor Hudson suddenly coughed and looked menacingly in their direction.

"I'm sorry I just got lost in thoughts for a moment and... needed to ask my colleague about the thing I missed." Leonard made excuse and displayed an apologetic smile.

"In case you have forgotten, _I_ am the teacher here, Mr. Wednesday. The next time you feel lost, please, ask me." The professor bristled up.

"Of course." Leonard answered calmly, but did not forget to put a portion of mockery into his otherwise perfectly polite tone. The professor seemed to have caught the hint and stared for a moment, but then turned back to the audience and resumed his talk.

"You have angered the Toad." The blonde colleague noted quietly, hodling the sandwich before his mouth.

Leonard chuckled to himself. The nickname was quite fitting. "Seems so." he said in alow voice. "I'm sorry I've been watching you like that, but… I thought I knew you. Is it possible we have met somewhere before?" he asked with a spark of hope.

"At another lecture..?" the other man suggested, raising one eyebrow, his mouth full.

"No. I mean before. In the past." Leonard insisted.

"I doubt it."

"I see." Leonard answered quietly, the hope turning into disappointment.

The blonde swallowed and after a while he put down the newspaper, rubbed his eyes and sighed. Then he spoke again. "I really tried to pay some attention, you know. But I'm afraid my intelligence circuits appear to have melted already." He stretched his arms and yawned.

"What?" Leonard asked, smiling, as he stood his book in front of him and laid his head on the desk, looking at the other man.

"Red Dwarf." The colleague explained as he straightened his back. "A british sit-com. You don't know it?"

"Not really, no."

"Come on! Dave Lister, Cat..?" the blonde viewed him, curious, and took another bite.

"Um... No. Still nothing."

"Pity." The blonde mumbled and grabbed the newspaper.

But before he could put the headphones back, Leonard leaned over again. "What's Megadeth?" he read the sign on the other man's t-shirt carefully.

The blonde man swallowed and looked back, tilting his head in disbelief. He snorted. "You want to piss me of or what?"

"No, I'd never." opposed Leonard.

"So what's going on?" the blonde frowned again. "You know Metallica, do you?"

Leonard smiled apologetically. "I'm... no."

"That's incredible." The blonde puffed once more. "Are we actually living on the same planet?"

"I though so a while ago. Now I'm not sure anymore." Leonard answered, smiling lightly.

"You're a strange one, aren't ya?" The blonde colleague laughed. "You know what? Your cultural knowledge is terrible, but I think I like you." His eyes became a bit more cheerful. He took a bite. "Well, I presume you live at the college?" he muttered.

"I do. Why?"

"You see - " the blonde waited and swallowed. "I'm planning to move. I found quite a suitable appartment today, but I will require one or two people more."

"And you mean me?" Leonard asked, raising a brow.

"No, that person behind you." The other one waved his hand, frowning.

Leonard smiled. "But you don't know me at all."

"Doesn't matter. Look, I really want to get out of the dorm, okay? So, what do you say?"

"I guess I can go and take a look at least." Leonard shrugged. "My roommate is here as well, maybe I can persuade him to go with us. But it depends on the price, I think."

"It would be much cheaper than the dorm if there were three."

"Interesting." Leonard admitted. "If it's true I think we can arrange something. My roommate is over there, in the firing line as always." He pointed with his chin at the very front row. "That Japanese."

"The one with the gel-sculpture on his head?" The blonde asked, his eyebrows climbing up.

Leonard could not fight a light chuckle. "Yeah, that's Shiro-san."

The blonde man grinned. "Sorry, but… he must take his time in the bathroom each morning, right?"

"Sometimes." Leonard answered. "But he's away most of the time, coming late at night or not at all. I suspect him of being a vampire."

The aforementioned man from the first row turned around as if he was able to sense he was being discussed. His black hair with blue strands was partly covering his ethereal face, revealing fully just one eye underlined with a black contour pen. He grinned and gestured the sign of the horns, black enamel gleaming on his nails. Leonard could not tell the meaning of this gesture, but since his roommate had been using it nearly every time they met, he decided to take it as a kind of greeting.

"Heavy-metal forever, bro." The blonde answered and grinned as he returned the gesture. Then he turned back to Leonard. "How can you live with this kind of person and not know about Megadeth? I understand you don't know him much?" he asked, darting a curious look.

"He keeps to himself most of the time. I only know he's from Boston and studied at the Berklee College of Music before." Leonard answered casually but the blonde became quite excited on the last note.

"No way!" The blue eyes widened. "What instrument?"

"Drums." Leonard said, rubbing at his dark eyebrow.

The blonde chuckled. "Annoyed?" he asked.

"Not really." Leonard sighed in response. "I think he's too polite to practice intentionally in my presence, but still, I have to hide all the pencils from him."

"What?"

"I think he stopped realizing it, but he's actually practicing all the time."

The blonde guffawed.

"You find something amusing up there?" professor Hudson asked angrily.

"No, no, no, I'm sorry." The blonde tried to answer, fighting back the chuckles, "Please, go on with the talk, you're doing great!"

The professor shook his head in disbelief and returned to his lecture.

The blonde sighed as he dug into the uncomfortable seat and leaned his head against the backrest. "I think I like your roommate as well." He said.

"In fact it's not _that_ much fun, you know." Leonard stated when his colleague managed to calm down.

"I trust you, but I have some understanding." The blonde answered, looking at the ceiling, and sighed deeply. "I was trying it at Berklee, too."

"Please don't say it's drums…"

The blonde laughed. "Have no fear. Guitar is my love." he added more silently.

"So… what are you doing at MIT?"

"I was actually doing quite well, I think, but was fired after an…" he coughed, "…incident."

"Incident?" Leonard asked, curious.

"Yeah. Had a rather heated argument with a guy who had been really annoying. And very slow-witted at the same time. So I had to use other than verbal means to explain my arguments to him, you know. I was drunk in addition, so… Yeah." He was hitting his thigh as he spoke, as if trying to punish himself.

"Oh."

"Don't be afraid, I'm not a violent person." The blonde turned to Leonard, grinning, his eyes cheerful again. "I like my comfort, you know. It must be something really disturbing to provoke me. But once it happens, it can turn into a real mess. Like back then." he stopped for a moment, looking down at his hands. "So, I ended up here."

"Interesting. There are not many people who can say they actually _ended up_ here."

"Huh. That's probably true." the blonde colleague let out an annoyed sigh. "My parents wanted me to study something… How did they call it? Um, _with better prospects_." he pretended to remember suddenly. "Our family friend is working at the department here so she pulled a few strings and… Here I am." He brushed a thumb over his eyelid. "I was always good at math and science but I'm no genius. I'm sure I'm gonna just lose a year here, that's all."

"Gentlemen up there, honestly, I can see I am disturbing you. Would you maybe consider leaving this lecture, so you can discuss your problems properly?" Professor Hudson asked them, looking really annoyed this time.

The blonde snorted as he stood up, packing his things. "Maybe you should consider changing from the thirty-years-old clothes you're wearing." He muttered. "Are you coming, too?" he asked Leonard.

"I am sorry?" the professor faltered, apparently not overhearing the note.

"Eh…" the blonde turned to Leonard. "Sorry, man, I think I've just prepared a hard time for us at the exam." He whispered. Then, as soon as he got out of the row, he turned in professor's direction. "Sorry, meant no offense." he uttered, bowed his head slightly and raised his hand in apology.

Leonard had to chew on his lower lip to hide his grin as he packed his book. Then he cleared his throat, making his way out. "Excuse my colleague, Professor Hudson, as he is in a very bad mood. I am sure he did not mean it." He said when he left the row, using the softest voice he could.

However, no matter the excuses, they both could feel Professor Hudson's glare burning on their backs. No wonder they were glad they finally reached the exit. And as soon as the door closed behind them they could no longer fight the chuckles that had threatened their throats all the way out.

Before they could calm down the door opened again, and the young Japanese stepped out.

"Shiro-san! Long time no see." Leonard greeted him, trying to look composed again.

"_Gome,_ I know. Man, my head is still aching…" Shiro answered in a coarse voice and stretched, running hands through his hair. "The boredom was terrifying, wasn't it? I'm afraid I might have fallen asleep a few times." He looked worn out as he squinted around the shadowy corridor. "Who's this guy?" he asked, rolling his eyes in the blonde one's direction.

"Uh - " Leonard frowned slightly, his hand rising to gesture at his new friend. "Actually... I don't know." Leonard answered sincerely and grinned again.

The tall blonde cracked a smile at that. "Sorry mate, I haven't introduced myself yet. Bret Larsson, my name." He spoke almost solemnly and bowed deeply, his long hair wiping the ground.

"Leonard Wednesday. Nice to meet you, Bret." Said Leonard when the blonde straightened again. The latter took his hand and squeezed it so hard it made Leonard wince.

The same situation repeated when the Japanese introduced himself as "Nakamune, Shiro".

Shiro and Leonard looked at each other, shaking their hands off and wincing with pain, but Bret just turned around, not noticing.

"I think we should start with a beer, what do you say?" he just asked merrily as he walked down the stairs.


	6. Revelations

_**Very special note:**__ I'd like to dedicate this chapter to __**Jan Marek**__ (Ice-hockey World Championships 2010 winner), __**Karel Rachunek**__ (Ice-hockey World Championships 2010 winner) and __**Josef Vasicek**__ (Ice-hockey World Championships 2005 winner, winner of the Stanley Cup 2006). I'll miss you guys. Thank you for everything. Farewell._

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><p><strong>And many thanks to Shipperwolf for the language revisions!<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Revelations<strong>

_The chapter is opened and the pages are turned  
>The writings say many things but who was concerned<em>

_Where can we run to now, when will we learn?  
>When it's lost it's gone forever<em>

_For years they told me what I should do  
>Down to the places I go and who should I talk to<br>But that don't matter no more since I found out the truth_

_And it feels good to me_

_(Black Sabbath; Feels Good to Me)_

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><p>Jane turned off the engine. She was a bit late, but <em>someone<em> seemed to be even later. She still felt too tired to be nervous about such a detail, though. _So what_; _a bit more time on my own_, she mused and checked the half-asleep Darcy in the rear mirror.

Leonard was not coming, so she decided to sit back and rest. As early in the morning when she had first woken up, her thoughts took her to that mysterious man she had such a long midnight talk with.

She regretted despising him for so long. There was no reason, after all. How could she overlook that? He was so intelligent and witty. Now she understood what Garo had meant by 'A good companion'. Leonard Wednesday was a great companion, indeed. Something stirred inside her when she recalled his eyes.

She woke up. _Stop it, Jane._

A soft knock sounded on the opposite window. She smiled and beckoned inside.

"Good morning, Lady Jane." he began as he got in, appearing completely refreshed. His long hair was still wet and loose, reaching to his shoulders, with a few tresses fallen in his face. "Oh, hello, Darcy. Finally back form the internship?" He said upon noticing another passenger in the back seat.

"As you can see." Darcy tilted her head and muttered wearily. She grinned. "Hi, Leo."

"Leo..?" Jane turned, waggling her eyebrows. "I must have missed something."

"Uh – please don't call me that." Leonard uttered and closed the door rather loudly. Then he tried to gather all the hair strands, combing his hair back with his long fingers.

Darcy chuckled and leaned against his seat. "Why shouldn't I?" she teased. "Wait, let me do this…" she said and ran her fingers through his hair slowly and held it together. Then she retrieved the rubber band from him and carefully bound the hair in his usual ponytail.

"Thank you." he murmured. _Was that a blush on his cheeks?_ Jane observed this scene and felt strangely distant. Something inside her clenched.

"So, how did you sleep?" he looked at her, his voice cheerful.

"Badly." Jane answered wearily.

"And I am asking now: how is that possible?" he lifted one eyebrow, darting a playful look at her.

Jane laughed slightly and just waved her hand, turning away.

"I actually slept very well- just enough. I have not been able to sleep this good in months…" he mused aloud.

"Well, that's just an illusion, I'm afraid." Jane said mysteriously.

"I'm listening..?" he asked eagerly.

"You see… Like it or not, today you'll have to sleep again." she explained.

"What an interesting idea." He placed a forefinger on his lips and narrowed his eyes. "Are you implying that no one had ever slept well in this world? What a scary premise."

"Yeah. Scary, indeed. But don't tell anyone, you know. We don't need to cause a worldwide panic." She sighed and leaned her head against the rest again.

"Oh, I won't. It will remain our little, terrible secret." He added solemnly. "However," he sighed, "I doubt there's anyone who would believe us. Maybe except meths drinkers and the corn circle society."

Jane grinned. It sounded familiar to her. "However, Mr. Wednesday, you're quite late. Any explanation?" she turned to him again, cheered up a bit.

"Let's see…" He tapped at his lips. "I – think we must be experiencing relative time dilation in an amazingly compressed space, then."

She laughed. _There! _"Hm. That's exactly what I thought." She answered in a perfect British accent and enjoyed his surprised look. "My goodness, it's quite delightful to meet another Red Dwarfer after so long." She added, grinning widely.

"Of course." He looked down. "But for that you should thank my friend. He is sometimes unable to fall asleep without watching at least one episode." He smiled.

"Really? I used to be exactly the same case. I din't even need to watch it, just listening was enough. But that was ages ago." She sighed. "The second quote is from the 'White Hole', isn't it?"

"Yep."

"That's my favorite."

"Is it? Well, definitely one of the best. Long live Talkie-toaster…" he chuckled.

"Hello, there! Earth's calling!" Darcy's voice filtered through. She assumed her resting position again, her eyes half-closed.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" asked Leonard as he observed the two sleepy women. "I mean, do not take it badly, but you look like… "

Jane lifted her brows in question, waiting.

"…tired." He breathed out finally, smirking.

"Oh, thanks." retorted Darcy, looking at him with just one eye open, not lifting her head. "But it's her fault. She woke me up in the middle of the night." She pointed angrily in Jane's direction.

"Stop it, please." Said Jane, annoyed, and wiped her eye. "We've discussed it already."

"Well. Please excuse my nosiness, but are we actually going anywhere today?" asked Leonard, his brows up.

"Uh... yeah." Answered Jane. "Sadly."

"Shall I drive, then?" he offered.

"If you want to…" she muttered, giving him a lazy glance.

"Seems I don't really have a choice." he sighed and got out.

"But don't think I'm going to let you sleep." He added excitedly when exchanged seats with Jane. He adjusted the seat quickly and leaned over to Jane's legs, where he had left his backpack. "Sorry." He smiled apologetically. Then he managed to find a flash-disc and started to croon a melody as he plugged it in the radio. At that moment, Darcy shot up.

"No! Don't let him do this!" She exclaimed.

"Why?" Jane asked, confused, turning to face the woman on the back seat.

"Have you ever heard what this guy listens to?" Darcy frowned.

"Pink Floyd..?" Jane suggested, remembering the last night, and shrugged.

"Oh yeah?" Darcy asked, voice full of sarcasm, darting a suspicious stare at Leonard. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"What?" Jane frowned and shifted in her seat, observing both of her companions confusedly. "Maybe you owe us some explanation, Mr. Wednesday?" she said and leaned against the backrest, observing him. He just glanced at her, then swiftly turned away and looked up and outside the window, biting his lip to hide a grin.

"Sure he does!" Darcy agreed angrily.

He cleared his throat. "Depends on what you want me to explain. I think you'll have to remind me…"

"Oh really?" Darcy snorted. "Then I'd like to remind you this – do you have _any_ idea how awkward it can be when you're riding a bus, listening to _nice_ and _peaceful_ Chopin's masterpieces, reading your favorite book and then suddenly, for no obvious reason you jump on the lap of a strange bloke next to you, throwing the book right into his face?" she tried hard to keep an angry expression on her face but her lips were twisting to a smile.

"Well, Miss Darcy, and do you realize what people who do things for no reason are called?" he asked silkily as he leaned against the steering wheel, his arms folded under his head, and looked back at Darcy.

"You know very well it _had_ a reason!" she viewed him through a slit between her eyelids.

"Which was..?" Jane suggested, chuckling a bit, but still not comprehending what was going on.

Darcy snorted and waved her hand, falling back to her seat. "He just exchanged randomly selected songs in my iPod for some unbearable shrieking, nothing less. Do you know how it startled me first? And I still haven't found them all. And don't laugh at me! Both of you!"

"Or what?" Leonard asked, fighting back the chuckles.

"Or what?" Darcy narrowed her eyes menacingly. "Just wait. You'll find out soon."

"Oh, I'm interested!" he grinned. "Just be careful, remember who you are playing with…" he added as he ran his thumb along his lower lip, his eyes focused.

"Tryin' to threaten me?" Darcy tilted her head, folding her arms in front of her.

"No no, Miss Darcy, that's just a little warning." he answered, his voice inscrutable.

"Wait!" Jane intervened as she stopped chuckling. "Is that true?"

"No, Janie, I'm just trying to look like an idiot." Darcy rolled her eyes. "He even took the trouble to keep the original song titles, so I had no idea what was going on! Do you hear me? Stop laughing, I'm talking to you." She shouted at Leonard and hit his shoulder. "Don't you think you should apologize at least?"

"But why?" he asked, smiling innocently. "I apologize only for something I regret. And I only regret I did not see it myself." He added as he wiped his eyes.

"You bastard!" uttered Darcy through gritted teeth, leaned in and hit him again. But then he caught her hand. "Please stop hitting me," he said. "It hurts so bad I might die." Her hand slipped out when he loosened the grip, and then she fell back to her seat and folded her arms, muttering something about stupid idiots.

"Aah… Thank you, Darcy. I had no idea how much fun it would be." He sighed.

"Shut up!" she spat back.

"Mmm, that one hurt." He answered mockingly and smiled over his shoulder.

"Ok, stop it right now, would you?" Jane tried again. She looked at Leonard for a while. "Well, I thought you had a different taste in music, you know."

"Actually… I admit that I was being quite harsh with Darcy. Some pieces are too much even for me." He grinned. "I don't even know most of it. It's just some 'teaching material' my friend gave me."

"Your friend seems to be an interesting person."

"Indeed." He spoke in a low voice as he went through the list on the radio.

"So, what's this?" Jane asked tentatively.

"No worries, this one is nice." He glimpsed at her with a content smile. "Something we used to listen after each drunken night. It always cheers me up."

Jane leaned closer, curious. "Joe Satriani?" she read from the display. "Who's that?"

"Um…" he cleared his throat. "If you ever happen to meet my friend, please, do not ask him this question. He would eat you alive."

"Oh. Sorry." Jane apologized. " 'Ceremony'. At least the title sounds promising." She added.

"Title doesn't matter." Darcy sounded angrily from the back seat.

"Hush, little creature! Time to set off." Leonard reprimanded as he started the engine to the first notes of the song. "Not a bad sound, actually." he stated as he turned the radio up.

"That's too slow. And silent." Darcy pointed out.

"Just wait!" Leonard retorted.

"For what?"

"Just a second. And – here we go!" The music got suddenly louder. "It's amazing, isn't it?" Leonard exclaimed as he glimpsed at the prickling skin of his forearm.

"Just go, please." Jane pleaded, smiling.

"As you wish, ma'am." Leonard bowed his head and obeyed.

Jane had to admit that after the slow intro came something that had her heart beating faster. It was really amazing.

She dug into the backrest and let the music take over her thoughts. But just for a moment. Then, not exactly knowing why, she had to look at him. How he watched the streets, crooning the melody and patting the steering wheel to the rhythm. He appeared so alive, so full of energy.

"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed and shifted nervously in his seat as they approached a red light. However, as soon as he spoke, the light switched into green, as if on his command. "That's better." He acknowledged. Jane realized he was doing rather well driving her car for the first time, since he drove very smoothly. Yet… the speed was maybe too much. Jane tried to ignore it at first, but then she decided to ask.

"Aren't we driving too fast?"

"No." He answered simply.

"Ah." Well, there was nothing more to add.

They entered the dusty road when he laughed to himself.

"What is it?" Jane asked.

"Just remembered something." he muttered, grinning, not looking at her.

Jane sighed, smiling. Then she tilted her head slightly to look at him again. He seemed to be enjoying the ride as he was holding the wheel with one hand, his free arm outside the rolled-down window, patting the upper frame. He returned the look for a moment, his eyes jovial, cheerful and restless. She felt suddenly so good, so light-hearted, like he were able to pour his good mood in her veins just by that one fleeting look.

The song changed into something else as the research grounds slowly appeared on the horizon.

When they approached their destination, he suddenly spoke again, in a very casual and formal tone. "Dear passengers, we've commenced descending. Please, fasten your seatbelts and hold on tightly." He looked at Jane, lifting a brow. "I mean it."

She turned to Darcy, who shrugged.

"I warned you." He said innocently as he suddenly pulled at the handbrake.

"Wait, what are you…!" Jane felt being pushed to the side as the car spun around. "… doing." She breathed out as the dust settled. And she realized they are in a perfect row with the other parked cars.

"Mm, Shiro would be proud of me." Leonard muttered as he checked their position. Then he switched off the music, retrieved the flash-disc and his backpack and got out swiftly. Then he peeked back inside. "Local time… um… 9:50 am, temperature is too high as always. Thank you for a most enjoyable journey and we wish you a pleasant stay at the New Mexico Particle and Radiation Research Facility."

He smiled innocently, bowed deeply and walked away.

"He's insane. But so yummy!" sighed Darcy.

Jane looked out of the window. _No, he can't be from Asgard._

She could think of only one being from that place that would behave like this. And she feared just to think about his name.

ooOOOoo

Jane gulped the water quickly and rushed towards Eric and Leonard's office. She slowed down and stopped a few feet away as she observed the scene inside. Eric, Garo, the director and the IT expert, Tek, were crowding and hustling themselves around Leonard's computer. They were talking excitedly, pointing at the screen and waving their hands. Leonard was standing aside with his head bowed, like he had been just pushed away. His hands were clapped together, the index fingers leaning against his lips, his thumbs supporting his chin. He was observing the scene rather confusedly, his eyebrows up. Then suddenly, he turned and looked at Jane. He then let his hands down and walked to the doorway, where he leaned against the doorframe. Lifting his brows, he gave her an innocent, puppy-like look as his lips formed a silent 'Help'.

She stirred a bit, then swallowed and walked to him. She had to grin when she saw his expression from a closer distance. However, she was not able to look him in the eye for a longer time.

"What's the matter?" she asked tentatively, swaying on her feet, joining her hands in front of her.

"What? Just look at them." he moved his head in the group's direction.

"Yeah, that. I'm afraid you've just reached the most difficult point in science." She indicated and nodded her head.

"Watching a group of middle-aged blokes arguing?" he lifted a brow. "Well, I admit it's really painful, but…"

"No!" She laughed. "I mean, obtaining a positive result is just a beginning. The hardest job is to actually convince the others about your truth."

"Truth?" he sighed. "That's actually the question."

"Hey! Believe in yourself a bit! I've seen it, it looked pretty good." she protested.

"We'll see. If I only had a chance to check it properly…" he looked over his shoulder to glance at the chattering men.

"We'll have to think about something that would get them out." Jane suggested, grinning.

"Actually…" he scratched his temple and looked around. "I considered turning the volume on Eric's stereo to max and playing one of the songs I've planted to Darcy." he sighed. "But I'm afraid the architecture of this building is not ready for such."

She laughed again. "You're quite a trickster, aren't you?" she swayed again, grinning.

"I have my moments." he dropped his look, his arms folded in front of him. Then he lifted his head and locked his gaze with hers. "I'm sorry Jane."

She blinked, confused. "For what?"

"For my behavior this morning. I just… I tend to exaggerate a bit when I'm in a good mood."

"No way!" she chuckled, tilting her head back. "Well, it was a bit unexpected, but… I feel very much alive now."

"You do? Uh – Yes, that's exactly what I was going for!" He grinned. "Just for my justification." He added, rubbing something off the door frame.

Jane's lips formed an answer, but she had not been given the chance to speak as the director stood in the doorway, too, staring at them.

"And what have we here?" he spoke, a sarcastic surprise in his voice. "The cream of particle and astrophysics finally decided to come all the way here to honor us with their presence?"

"You see - " Jane started.

"Long, long night, was it?" he asked tentatively as he lifted one brow, observing them both. Jane felt the blush coming as she watched Leonard looking down. But she got a bit surprised as she heard his comforting and playful voice.

"Long night, indeed. And fruitful! We've found a pattern in the digits sequence of pi. Right, Jane?" He stated with a victorious expression.

"Wha… Don't mess with me; I warn you, Mr. Wednesday!" the director exclaimed angrily. "Presentation! Report!" he commanded as he pointed first at Leonard, then at Jane.

"What? Now?" Jane asked, confused.

The director drew his sleeve up and checked his watch. "Well… The seminar starts at eleven as usual. Which is exactly in one hour. So – I would advise to start… now." He added sarcastically, turned around swiftly and walked to his office.

Jane rubbed her forehead. "Please, tell me it's a joke. That he did not mean it."

Then, there was Garo, wearing his usual merry expression. "Hey, Leonard! Can't wait to hear your presentation about the results!"

"But – " Leonard managed.

"No 'buts'." Garo raised his index finger to stop him. "I'm way too curious, my lad." He tilted his head. "Come on, you should finninsh what you started, am I right?" he asked and smacked Leonard's shoulder causing him to lurch a bit.

"Yeah. What else can I do?" Leonard mumbled, watching his professor leave.

"Wait! Am I right in guessing that they want you to make a presentation about such a thing in just one hour?" Jane asked, brows furrowed, her arms folded in front of her.

"Seems so." Leonard answered, waving his hands. "But I guess it'll be still more fun than making some dull report…" he smirked.

"Hey! I was actually planning to help you out, you know? So please don't mock me."

"Well, thank you, Jane. But you really don't have to." His eyes narrowed. "I shall give them a presentation they have never seen before. Just two more things are needed…" he blurted as he left her wondering in the doorway; and rushed to the corridor.

ooOOOoo

Jane was only done with the header when she felt the tiredness coming back. Her head was getting empty. _At least I don't have to do that presentation._ She thought.

Well, just a day ago, she would give everything to present these results to her fellow researchers, but now… Her attitude had changed, perhaps. Most probably she was finally able to admit that this field of physics was just beyond her capability. And she felt strangely relieved.

She scratched her head. _Perhaps I should do this at least…_ she mused as she grabbed the mouse again and dragged the latest documents regarding the calculations in the shared folder. Then she stood up and walked to the next office to inform Leonard about it.

However, she nearly walked into him as she stepped into the corridor. He was carrying a box of chocolate ice-cream – _again?_ – and a mug of coffee.

"Long time no see, Lady Jane." He chirped as he rushed back to his office. She followed him.

"I can see the report must be utterly annoying." He teased her, smirking over his shoulder, and sat the ice-cream and coffee on a small table in the corner of the room. Then he settled onto the couch next to the table, opened the ice-cream box and put a spoonful of the cold, brown mass in his coffee.

"_Must _you have the ice-cream even in your coffee?" Jane wondered. "What a strange obsession. At least for a man..."

"Well, some do _not_ like it hot." he answered casually as he opened his laptop and put another spoonful into his mouth.

She hissed and frowned at that view. Leonard turned to her, question in his look.

"Just how can you eat it in such a way? You'll - " Jane shrugged heplessly.

"You'll get a headache, your teeth will hurt…" he rolled his eyes and listed with slight annoyance, mumbling, when he pulled the spoon out. "Nothing of this ever happened to me."

"Sorry. So, enjoy your… breakfast, then?"

He laughed to himself as an answer. And before he opened the editor window Jane caught a glimpse of the wallpaper on his laptop screen. It was a photograph of three companions sitting at the table in a pub. She recognized Leonard in the center. His hair was loose and slicked back. It looked… very pretty, actually. Right next to him, there was a tall, blonde man with very long hair and quite an interesting Asian guy on the left. The blonde reminded her of someone. That smile, that cheerful stare, he looked almost like…

But then, something strange caught her attention.

"That was odd. It appeared the cursor moved just before you actually reached the touchpad." Jane's brows collided.

"It did, right?" his question surprised her. "It happens from time to time." He sounded a bit distant. "Who knows, perhaps I've created a ghost in the shell while pimping this baby out." He grinned.

"Yeah, tell me about it." Tek, the IT guy, murmured, still checking something on Leonard's computer. "You built an abomination."

Hearing his voice, Leonard bent forward to look at him. "Tek? You know what I want to ask, yes?" he asked sweetly.

"Uh-huh" the latter managed, eyes fixed firmly on the screen.

"Well, I can't say 'there's no rush' anymore..."

"Just a sec, man." Tek answered absently while viewing something on his own laptop. "I'll send it over in no time, promise. It seems all right, though. At least from my point of view."

Jane decided to intervene. "By the way, what was that previous heated debate actually about? I went through the results as well, and I didn't find anything wrong."

"Result is okay. But you should maybe ask about the way it was obtained." Eric pointed out from behind of his computer.

Jane looked back at the tightening muscles of the lean person next to her. Finally, Leonard rested his hands at the top of his head, tilted it back, and looked at the ceiling. "The truth is," he said, "I used our software for this job." He darted a guilty look at her.

She frowned. "Well, I don't see any reason why I should be angry for that."

"Director was rather doubtful…" Eric peeked out again.

"What?" Jane frowned even more and sighed nervously. "Hadn't he read your thesis?"

"Thesis is one thing, practical application is another." Leonard answered absentmindedly and took a sip of his coffee. "Anyway, you needed something particular?"

"No. I've just added some useful stuff to the shared folder. So… I just wanted you to know."

"Yep. It's there." he checked briefly.

"I guess there's no spare time to read through the texts, but you can use the charts at least." Jane muttered as she leaned over and went through the list of documents.

"The more pictures the better?" he added, sarcastic and resigned. "Isn't it curious how much scientists and children have in common?"

"No it's not." Jane smirked. "And you'd best take it as a fact. Some things will get easier then." She winked and walked back to her office.

ooOOOoo

Sitting all stif and tense, Jane hypnotized the entrance of conference room.

"Good. I'll take a closer look later." Director's voice brought her back to Earth.

"Uh… Yes, of course. Thank you." She blurted out and glanced at her report in his hands. They both simultaneously checked their watch. 10:58 am. She drummed her fingers on the table. _Leonard, come on…_

She was about to stand up and check on him when he suddenly burst into the room, his laptop in his hands and a bottle of water under his arm.

"Morning, everyone! Sorry, I'm late. Almost." He uttered as he checked the time; then reached for the cable and connected the data-projector.

"Anyone missing?" asked the director, looking around the room. "No? Then I believe we can begin." He nodded at Darcy who switched the light off. "Leonard, please." He gestured.

"Gimme a sec." the latter breathed while lying on the table and adjusting the image emitted by the projector. "Almost there - and - three times hurray for a clearer view."

Jane could not help a grin when she met his jovial eyes. He straightened up, gulped some water and grabbed the pointer.

"Once again, good morning to everyone. I'm glad to present the very latest results concerning the '_In silico_ prediction of the subatomic particle behavior'." He greeted the auditorium and followed the title of his presentation. Jane checked briefly the content of the opening slide and got immediately surprised and disconcerted by the authors order. First, there was _her_ name, _underlined_. Then Eric, Garo, two more people she did not know and then, at last, Leonard. _What the..?_

She was twisting and shifting nervously on her seat during the whole talk, and especially at the end of the presentation, when a slide with acknowledgements was shining from the screen.

She was not used to seeing her name with all the academic degrees attached anymore. She was not used to being referred to as Dr. Foster. And she was definitely not used to being mentioned as someone's supervisor.

No, that was not right. It felt so strange, so undeserved. She bit her lip helplessly as she felt everyone's admiring stare on her. She entwined and clutched her fingers, wishing sincerely for the stupid seminar to end.

However, when her wish was granted she immediately wished to be just anywhere else but at the research grounds. The director, Garo, everyone felt a sudden urge to congratulate her, thank her, wish her luck and who knows what else. The people were gathering around her, blocking her view, talking one over another, so she was able to just catch a glimpse of a tall and lean figure smiling and leaving the room quietly.

As soon as she was finally able to get out, she rushed through the corridors to find him. Full of rage, anger and… gratitude. She found him in front of the director's and Garo's office, conversing with Garo. Before she could reconsider her action, she grabbed Leonard's hand. "I'll borrow your lad for a moment, ok?" she spat at the poor old man, leaving him standing there confused.

She was holding Leonard's cold hand tightly as she navigated them back to the now empty conference room. Then she closed the door swiftly and looked up at him. He held her gaze silently, question in his green eyes. Jane cleared her throat when she realized they were still holding hands. She let go, quickly chasing away the feeling of strange emptiness as she did so.

"Leonard, I - " she suddenly was not too sure what she wanted to say. She looked at him again. "I mean, why did you do that?"

"What exactly?" he tried.

She flailed her hands desperately. "I don't know… All that Jane Foster-praising. It was… Inappropriate."

"Well, and could I perhaps know the reason why?"

"Why?" she frowned. "Are you kidding me? It was your presentation, your work! Thank you so much for everything, but... It felt awkward, you know. I did not deserve that. It truly felt strange. So – " she came closer and dug her index finger to his chest, locking her eyes with his, "don't you do this anymore, understood?" she grinned and then, slowly, dropped her stare.

"No." he said.

Her eyes shot up. She got startled and shivered just a little as he took her hand gently and pulled it away.

"Let me put this straight." He began, his voice soft but steady and determined. "Before I do something, I usually think about it. Therefore, I know _exactly_ what I'm doing and why, as in this case."

He snorted, frowning. "Do I really have to explain it? It was _your_ work, those were _your_ results." He searched her eyes, his expression emphatic, pressing. "I was just lucky at the final stage, but…" he let out a reconciled laugh, "_You_ worked too hard to achieve this goal, and _you_ are the person who led this project defiantly to this level. I am convinced about it, and if I had a second chance I would do the same. Do you understand?" he leaned in, still grasping her hand, shaking it. "I would like to present my work, gladly, as long as I have something to present. But this was _your_ work. You know, Jane?" he smiled and chuckled slightly. "Believe in yourself a bit, Dr. Foster." He added as he released her hand, finally.

"Okay." she agreed, stunned, giving up. "But no more Dr. Foster, please." She breathed, looking away.

"Feeling like an old hag again..?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"Oh, come on." she laughed as she opened the door.

ooOOOoo

Jane ran her hands through her thick hair. She was back in her office, sitting at the table, elbows on the desk, in front of her computer. However, she was not looking at the screen anymore. She was sitting there, her head bowed deeply, her eyes focused. Focused on a photograph lying on the table.

_Maybe we've been given a chance, after all…_

A single tear fell. She wiped her eyes desperately.

_Thor…_

She studied that picture intently. As ever. Just to remind herself that it had been true. He had been there. On Earth. Three years ago.

_Three years ago…_

She just had to look at it. Just to remind herself of what he looked like. How his gorgeous smile looked. _But his cheerful laughter… how did it sound?_

Her shoulders trembled as her forehead reached the surface of the photograph. She _had_ to look at his picture over and over again, the only one she had, just to be sure how exactly to imagine him in her memories, her fantasies.

But no matter what, it was still such a huge struggle. She almost felt like the whole world, the whole universe was against her.

_Until now._

But before, it had been different.

Just a few days after Thor's departure, she had become so determined. All of her devices had been back, and on top of that, SHIELD had made a commitment to her that they would continue. They had said her discoveries were exceptional, extraordinary, unparalleled. In weeks, the whole research facility had been built. There were devices she had barely heard about, the installation granted and funded by the government. And even more.

They all had heard about a most promising project regarding an inscrutable object called the Cube.

She had immediately applied for a position in the research group. But, despite the fact that she had actually succeeded in the selection procedure, the whole thing had turned out the other way. At first, she hadn't even known who had taken over the project. Only that the research had been passed on a mysterious corporation, which, later on, had turned out to be nothing less than Stark Industries.

And from that time on, their own research had been constantly deteriorating. SHIELD had broken most of the contacts and Jane had realized they had been left alone. They had been just receiving orders and instructions. Just gathering data from their new devices and all particle accelerators around the world to do simulations. Predictions. But she knew it was a path leading to nowhere. The results were just approximations, nothing reliable. They would constantly send out the information to SHIELD, but nothing coherent would come back as an answer.

Then she recalled the embarrassing tears building up in her eyes as she had pleaded for another school grant.

And she had cried for real when she had realized how little they had actually got. They had to contact the research groups at different universities, making their research freely available to the scientific community and they could have only hoped for… Well, something.

Of course, the situation got a bit brighter when a huge research group at the MIT had decided to join them. So suddenly, for almost no reason. Jane had been aware that she and Eric had not published anything since ages. But she had had no time for thinking about MIT's determination. She had been just glad to have their share from the money pipe, and the rest would come later.

And now, the time had come.

Finally, after months-years, they had something reliable at hand. Something that was making sense. Something that followed the newest theories and supported the latest observations. And SHIELD would have to respond for sure… _Finally._

"Jane?" she heard a familiar, soft voice. Immediately, impetuously, she slid the photograph under the keyboard.

"What?" she asked in a rush, turning away quickly to gain a split second to wipe her wet eyes.

"Skipping lunch again?" Leonard asked, concerned, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.

"Well, I…" _Oh, please, leave me alone._ "I did not bring anything." She remembered.

He remained silent for a long while.

_Please, just go!_

"Strange." He spoke again, finally.

Jane turned her head in his direction as the word caught her attention.

_Oh, thank goodness! He's not looking._

"Garo woke me up at 7:00 as usual." He went on. "I'd forgotten to send him a message to not to do so. I could not sleep then, so I decided to prepare something for lunch and dinner as well. It's actually the same thing, I just prepared a bigger portion." He paused as she looked at him.

"That 'dinner' part will be waiting for you in the kitchen." he smiled lightly.

"Leonard, you don't have to." She tried to thank him politely but refuse the offer.

"And I don't take 'No' for an answer." He replied and retreated.

Jane buried her face in her hands and sighed.

ooOOOoo

_It's… pasta?_ Jane had not eaten pasta for ages. And it smelled so good… Immediately, she forgot about her determination just to say 'thank you' and leave.

Instead, she rushed to the table, dug the fork into the warm food and ate, delighted.

Her plate was almost empty when she finally realized he had been watching her the whole time, leaning against the cupboard, holding a glass of water.

He was smiling, the curiosity reflecting in his eyes.

"I got almost intimidated by the determination in your face."

She swallowed. "What determination?"

"To eat the meal till the slightest bit, maybe even including the plate and fork."

She chuckled, her mouth full again. For a moment, she recalled the scenes from her childhood, when she would lick her plate clean whenever her mother had cooked something good.

Finally, she pushed the plate aside and laid her arms and head on the table. "Thank you. It was delicious."

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly as he took the plate and placed it into the sink.

She sighed deeply in response. But then she shot up, realizing how much she had just eaten.

"Leonard?" she asked. "How much of this food have you actually brought here?"

"Just enough." he shrugged.

"Have you… Have you eaten anything at all?" she frowned, tilting her head, all suspicious.

"No, he hasn't." Darcy answered the question as she entered the room.

"Leonard!" Jane exclaimed. "You should have – "

"No, it's alright. I don't eat much, anyway." He stopped her.

"Well, you definitely look like that." Darcy muttered, judging his lean appearance as she approached him. "Though, on the other hand…" she continued to watch him like a cat gone out hunting, "You appear to be quite fit." she added curiously, her eyes narrowed as she slid her fingertip down his ribs and side.

He staggered and stepped quickly aside, spitting out some water as he… _chuckled?_

Darcy observed him, surprised, her eyes wide, and mouth slightly open. They watched each other silently, waiting.

Then her lips twisted into a victorious grin, as if she had just discovered something ground-breaking.

"_You're…_" she tilted her head and moved slowly closer. "_T__icklish!_"

"No, I'm not." He backed off, hands raised defensively, his cheeks blushing and lips tugging and curling into a cute smile.

"Oh yes, you are!" she pressed as if trying to reassure him. "I would recognize a ticklish person anywhere, at any time." she was still closing the distance between them. "You can trust me on that."

"I warn you, don't come any closer." he pointed at her, smiling even more.

"I knew I would get my revenge somehow."

"Ah, really? I'm not going to make it easy, though." he assured her, amused as he was deflecting effortlessly all her attempts to reach him.

"Hey, Jane, are you going just to sit there? Come on, I need some help." Darcy glanced at Jane, frowning.

"I don't think it'll make any difference." Leonard pointed out playfully.

"Oh, you don't?" Jane smirked and stood up.

"Jane? What are you doing?" he sounded surprised.

"Nothing bad…" she smirked, pacing slowly around the table towards them, her hands entwined.

"Go away!" A wide grin appeared on his face as he warned her ineffectively, holding out a hand. "Don't you come any closer!" he locked her gaze, despite having to grasp Darcy's hands to keep her at some distance.

Darcy twisted slightly and entwined her fingers around his. "Oh, Janie, now!"

"Jane, please…" he murmured.

And Jane could not help but had to grin. Leonard was already laughing, and he flopped like a fish even before she could barely touch him.

"No no no! Time-out, please." he broke free from Darcy's grasp, raising his forefingers. Darcy and Jane watched him curiously.

"Let me say just one thing…" he said silkily, still smiling, but his voice unfathomable. The two women held their breaths in anticipation.

It seemed as though he wanted to say something important, but instead he just took their hands, lifted them up and stepped forward. Then turned around quickly and let their arms down again, crossing them, grasping firmly as he did.

"You did not really think I would let you do that?" He asked then, voice full of tease. Jane managed just to part her lips to form an answer, or a question, anything…

"Oh no, you did? Then," he smirked. "catch me if you can!"

ooOOOoo

"Go and laugh as you like. But we're not quite finished, remember that." Jane narrowed her eyes as she observed Leonard who was now leaning against the bookshelf in his office, reading through a paper Garo had left for him. He barely lifted one brow at her note; he just glimpsed at her as the corner of his mouth appeared to curl up a bit.

She took a sip of her coffee. Hot coffee. "You know… I would not want to be in your position now." she remarked casually, sliding her feet out of the slippers and folding her legs underneath her, and shifted a little in her comfortable position on the couch.

"Why, my dear?" still not looking away from the paper, he asked her like a father would ask his little curious daughter who just disturbed him from reading his newspaper.

"Well," she cleared her throat, "It must be really stressful, not knowing when exactly someone who knows about your Achilles heel would try something again."

"Knowing one's Achilles heel is beneficial only if you're able to make some use of it. And clearly, you're not." He glanced at her, waiting what would happen with this bait.

But she remained silent, smiling lightly to her mug of coffee. "We'll see." She said finally, her voice quiet.

Jane raised her eyes and looked at him for a while. She had to admit Darcy was most probably right. Despite being very lean, he definitely was in a good shape. _Well, so what?_

Jane felt a bit uneasy at this thought. She had never before regarded him this way, after all.

He glanced over at her, met her eyes for a moment, and then turned slightly to take a look at himself, then at her again. He raised a brow. "Is there anything I should know?" he sounded surprised and amused at the same time. She quickly looked away, clearing her throat.

"No." she smiled. "You don't need to know."

"No? I just got a feeling that a particularly interesting splotch appeared on my shirt…" he replied while turning around and checking on his clothes.

She let out a chuckle. "Well, Mr. Wednesday, it's a special kind of vanishing stain. Some are able to see it, while others are not."

He stopped and cracked a wide smile. "Miss Foster, are you trying to tease me?"

"Oh dear, I would have never dared! Besides, I had been always known for my awareness of whom I'm playing with." She smirked mysteriously, lips attached to her cup, observing him and waiting patiently for his move.

"Hm." he brought his index finger to his lips. "Something's telling me you could actually make a very good opponent…" he noted, watching her intently as a light twinkle escaped his narrowed eyes. "Maybe it's high time I looked for something like an Achilles heel of Miss Perfect."

"Well," Jane tilted her head. "Although I have a great respect for your mental capability, I doubt you could ever be successful in this task. It wouldn't be a shame to lose, though." She terased him even more.

He laughed appreciatively. And with that merry and so unbelievably comforting sound, the strange, amazing and light-hearted feeling reverberated through her chest once more. She was sure a blush appeared on her cheeks, but she did not care.

"I thought I knew you, Jane; however, it appears…" he stopped as he turned from her and listened to the sounds coming from the corridor for a second. Then he turned back "It appears that quite the opposite was true."

He returned to his previous position, leaning against the bookshelf, but instead returning to the paper he just propped his arms beside him and watched her eagerly. There was a curiosity of a child in his expression. He remained silent, his eyes observing attentively her entire appearance. She shifted nervously and then just had to look away.

"Is there anything I should know?" she murmured then, looking down, studying the trembling surface of her coffee.

He viewed her sidelong. "You don't need to know." he answered in a slightly teasing tone, his voice quiet.

Jane was almost sure she recognized something else in his voice. Something more, something flowing under the surface. "Well, if it's you…" he looked at her again, smiling unfathomably, "It appears the vanishing stain changed its position."

She blinked, and then glanced quickly over herself. Her eyes met his. "That was cheap."

He shrugged in reply, closing his eyes for a moment. In the meantime the chatter from the corridor ad come closer. The director entered the room.

Jane stood up and met him halfway. "Mr. Nolan?"

The man grinned. "Good news, Miss Foster! A few minutes ago I sent my report with the results to the headquarters. And…"

"And?" her brows shot up in anticipation.

"And… Their answer came almost forthwith. Which means they're actually pretty interested. However…"

"However?" she inclined her head.

"The text of the reply was even more intriguing. They would like to see all the data concerning the problem and a presentation. At the headquarters. You. Tomorrow." He grinned even more.

"Ah!" she gasped, placing a hand on her chest. Then smiled widely. "Is that…"

"Do I look like I'm joking? C'mon, you have a work to be done!" he frowned, his lips still twisting, though. "Oh, and – " he pointed at the corner of his mouth, "there's a smudge on your mouth. Coffee foam, perhaps." he implied quietly, turned around and walked away.

Someone behind her back chuckled. And cleared his throat and looked away when she turned to face him.

ooOOOoo

"Good morning everyone, thank you for coming." The director viewed his auditory gathered in the conference room. "Today's seminar will be purely informative. It won't take long, promise. I have to tell just a few but very important notes and then, I believe, we can discuss the rest at a joint lunch down town." Questioning, surprised chatter raised. Director cleared his throat. "For those who are sitting on their wires - you're all invited of course."

"Cool!" Darcy noted as she dug her elbow into Leonard's forearm. "Did you hear that? You're going to eat!"

"Hopefully, we all are, Miss Darcy. Thank you." The director answered her for Leonard.

Jane chuckled nervously. She did not remember the last time she was so nervous, anticipatory, excited… Oh, so excited about what the person in front of them was about to say!

Almost three weeks had passed since her sensational presentation at the headquarters. The people who were usually wearing a bored-to-death expression had been looking… interested. They had been shaking her hand so eagerly, then. Well, they hadn't a slightest clue, but they gave her a hope.

"So," the director clapped his hands, "as some of you may know, yesterday I spent a great deal of time at the headquarters. Mostly because of loads of news I had to listen to. To put it frankly: someone became interested in our research. Someone big. I mean… what I want to say is that an international corporation is going to grant our research, and above it all, they're going to install their most state-of-the-art technology here, at our facility."

There was almost no blood in Jane's entwined fingers. Everyone held their breath.

"It's none other than - " he looked around. "Stark Industries."

"What?" Jane heard Leonard voicing her question. The heated whipers filled the room.

"Something wrong, Mr. Wednesday? Actually," the director went through his papers, "I have some documents that require your signature."

"My signature?" Leonard repeated, lifting up a brow. "And may I ask what I'm going to sign?"

"A new contract." Director replied. "I'm very glad to tell you that Mr. Stark himself expressed his interest in you. He wants to grant your scholarship for the next six months."

"Six months?"

"Looks like you're going to please us with your presence a bit longer. Not pleased?" the director noted as he observed Leonard's confusion. "Of course Mr. Stark counts on a prolongation… Anyway, you should celebrate, Mr. Wednesday. You'll be paid…" he looked into the document. "A lot, actually."

"Horray. I'm rich!" Leonard muttered sarcastically, looking at his hands as he trailed his index finger on the table desk.

"Come again..?" director raised his brows, tilting his head.

"Oh, I… Thank you. So much, really! And a great appreciation to Mr. Stark, of course." Leonard changed his voice into a strange, official tone.

"Of course." director nodded, frowning. "Anyway, regarding the new devices…"

Jane stopped listening. She just rested her head on her hand and sighed silently. Her dream came true, that was all she needed to know for that day. She just decided to switch her racing mind off-line and to spend some of these precious moments just with herself.

After some time, she found herself getting out of the car and standing in front of a hotel, where the official luncheon was supposed to take place. _Oh, the director is being quite generous_, she noted to herself as she observed the architecture and the whole impression this place was displaying. Eric stepped aside and gestured to her to enter first.

It was beautiful inside. Why had someone not told her to wear more suitable clothes for this? Well, not that she possessed many for such occasions.

"Hello, sweetheart!" a familiar voice greeted her. It was him. Tony Stark. In person.

Hesitant, she took his hand and shook it. "Long time no see, Mr. Stark." She replied cautiously.

"Same to you, Miss Foster." He grinned. His eyes twinkled as he released her hand reluctantly. She almost anticipated some other "cute" phrases, but instead she heard Leonard's voice.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Oh! Nice to meet you again, Mr. Wednesday!" Tony answered as he smiled unfathomably and winked at Leonard when he took his hand.


	7. The Third Interlude

Many thanks to **Shipperwolf** for the revisions!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: The Third Interlude<strong>

_Are you scared to be, scared of what you see  
>Are you scared to change, scared to rearrange<em>

_There's a chance that you never take the chances you get  
>There's a chance you haven't taken any chances yet<em>

_(Clawfinger; Chances)_

* * *

><p>Leonard stood up and held onto the upper frame of a wide window, or rather a huge opening in the wall of an elevated parking lot. He decided to observe the streets below. People and cars passing by, trees moving in the wind, lights in the opposite windows coming on and the orange-red horizon that had just engulfed the setting sun.<p>

He tried to avoid such moments, however, sometimes it could not be helped and he had to spend a while just with himself, just with his thoughts. He looked down at the sidewalk. It was a very cold evening and he felt that the next temperature drop would come tonight. And he was right. The cold season was hesitating a lot this year, but now the time was about to come. The heavy clouds started gathering above the landscape. He breathed in and smelled something exciting. Something he wished to see for so long. _It will snow soon_, he smiled to himself.

In a way, he was looking forward to it. He loved winter. Not that he remembered any, but he had always preferred pictures with the snow-covered landscape over the summer ones._ Lots of people do, yes?_

But curiously enough, he loved the feeling of being cold itself. No matter how low the temperature, no matter how cold the wind, he would never mind. Honestly, he actually did not know that feeling. He was not sure what it meant to _be_ cold.

Maybe that was the reason why he had accepted the part-time job at the local freezing plant to make some extra money. Not that his closest people were satisfied with it, but he liked it somehow. Unlike the other workers there, he had no problem with the temperature changes, he did not feel weakness nor did he suffer any disease. He was able to come and take someone else's job, or stay at work as long as necessary. Sometimes he would feel jealousy from his co-workers, because thanks to his immunity he earned far better salary and overall conditions. But who cared, since it was not his business. The only thing that perturbed him was another proof that he was... different. Once, when he stayed in the job for too long, he noticed his skin turning a weird shade of blue. But as soon as he realized, it assumed back its original shade of pale white. So he was not completely certain if it was real or not, but he could not stop thinking about it. Besides, he found his natural skin color a bit unusual itself. Maybe too pale for his jet-black hair.

A fresh wind rose and stroked his cheeks. His pale eyelids were forced to flutter when a snowflake landed on his lashes. And then another. And one by one, the snowflakes were dancing in spirals, falling silently to the ground. Leonard was amazed. He did not really expect the snow to come _now._ It felt as if the clouds themselves were willing to fulfill his wish. Smiling with disbelief, he extended his hand to catch one of the tiny white shapes. He viewed the unique crystal structures for a moment, just before... But it did not thaw. It made him strangely nervous. _Come on, melt..._

And the snowflake obeyed.

And so he closed his eyes and breathed. _My first winter._

_Although... most probably not. How many winters could I have experienced in my life?_

At each medical examination he had to endure he would hear the same thing: 'You are in your mid-to- late twenties.'

Well, that sounded reasonable. At least physically. But deep inside he felt he must have experienced so many things... But it was nothing tangible, nothing concrete. He still could not summon any memory from his past. Just some incoherent, blurred images, engulfed in mist.

There were only feelings that remained. And he could not name them, either. Because they were connected to people, places and situations he was unable to recall. The only thing he knew, or he thought he knew, was that the feelings were old. Immensely, unreachably old. And definitely not pleasant. These were the feelings he feared. And as in the case of many other strange things in his life, Leonard decided to pretend they did not exist.

Exactly like _that_ voice in his head. Leonard was trying to forget, to live like the nightmarish, terrifying visits never happened. But inside of his soul he realized he was misleading himself. Otherwise, why should he feel frightened of being alone?

_Because... the other one may return._

But he hadn't. Since quite a long time ago.

And why? Maybe the answer was that Leonard actually stopped _feeling_ alone. Abandoned. Stranded. Or better – he did not care anymore. And most likely it began that day when he met Bret. The only person around whom Leonard felt comfortable and relaxed right from the start. It just felt like they had known each other for years. And so, after such a long time he dared stop feeling like a perfect stranger. Although they had been quite different as far as their temper was considered, Bret and Leonard understood each other very well.

There was even no need to speak. Leonard noticed that he felt comfortable just in his friend's presence. So perfectly calm and safe.

However, Bret was rather not a calm and quiet person. He would always be the one to break the silence first. Should it be anyone else, Leonard would most probably get annoyed, but surprisingly, he considered Bret… funny. He had quite a unique sense of humor. And there was something else to Bret, something that seemed more natural to him than speaking. The way he could play guitar. Leonard admired the harsh sound as well as the lyrical. He had no idea how plausibly could a feeling have been expressed like that. And it was something he would never consider disturbing in any way. Quite the opposite, he got used to the constant presence of music in his life and came to like it more and more.

However, Bret was not the only one with whom Leonard shared their apartment. There was one person left. The one Leonard would imagine if someone would have asked about a perfect opposite to Bret.

It was Shiro, his very first roommate, to be exact.

It was easy to be friends with Bret, although Leonard could not explain why. But Shiro was different. And Leonard had had to find and pass a far more difficult way to that strange and silent man. Shiro certainly did not belong to utterly communicative people. He would not talk if not necessary. Until they moved to their new dwelling, Leonard had known almost nothing about this person. He suspected Shiro of doing various weird things, mostly because the latter would oftentimes come late at night, or at dawn, or not at all. Without saying a word.

But now, the situation changed. When they had moved in, Shiro had decided to open himself a bit more and Leonard discovered that he would value this friendship as well. It hadn't been easy to earn but it was worth it. _No, Shiro was not a vampire…_ Shiro was brilliant, with an intellect maybe too outstanding for the others to catch up with. But first of all, he was an artist. He was an incredibly talented musician, maybe even more than Bret, and he just loved to devote himself to his talent. If not in front of the audience, then just by himself. His personality was complicated and much too different to fit in this world. But should there be one thing to link him with nowadays society, it would be cars. Shiro loved cars; maybe a bit more than Leonard could understand.

_Oh yes..._ Leonard smiled again and looked over his shoulder.

The section of the elevated parking lot he was in right now belonged just to them. The owner had promised he would make this place accessible for them for some extra money. Of course Shiro and Bret had both immediately agreed, because like that, they earned a great studio just above their apartmnet just for a few dollars more. _And there was more to it..._ Leonard thought as he checked a coal-black car standing in front of the gateway. It was Shiro's beloved Eight Evolution of Mitsubishi Lancer, that Shiro, full of pride and love, called "Miko". Well, taking care of such a vehicle cost some money. And Shiro knew how to earn them. How to earn _a lot_.

And thanks to Shiro, Leonard knew as well.

To be introduced to poker was one of the breaking points in his present life. He did not even know how it happened when he started to attend the tournaments together with Shiro. _How is it possible I have ever lived without it?_

However, Leonard had soon discovered that Mike and Julie had never supported any kind of gambling. He remembered the feeling of confusion when Julie had refused his money with rebuke and sorrow in her voice as soon as she knew where the money came from.

But Leonard did not understand; he did nothing wrong after all. All the players realize they can lose. And he was certainly not to blame for them to be so _willing_ to lose. He did not rob anyone, did he? Like that, he had an opportunity to earn a fortune during an evening! There was no need to spend the whole weekend or a nightshift in a part-time job anymore. And he just wanted to pay back his foster family not only for all the money they had spent on him but also for all the care, patience and trust they had invested in him. But Julie still rejected it. He felt sorry, but on the other hand, he refused to leave his new hobby. He would choose rather not to speak about it or even to tell a little lie to prevent any further conflicts. And the problem was solved. Sometimes he would feel uneasy- guilty maybe, but on the other hand, he had the situation under control and no one had discovered his little deceit so far.

And this was another from the growing row of his strange skills. To deceive and mislead the minds of other people. Making someone believe him any silliness was not a problem for Leonard. He was so good at it that it sometimes scared him. As the last week, when he had been asked a question, but he hadn't been paying attention at the lecture. He did not have a clue what the question was about; however, he hadn't hesitated even for a slightest moment and had started to talk. In the end, he hadn't said anything meaningful, but nonetheless, the professor had seemed quite satisfied with the asnwer.

After giving it some thought, Leonard chose not to let people know about his abilities. He decided he had better keep some matters just to himself. Sometimes an advantage is more useful as hidden, after all. Well, and poker was a great opportunity to use his hidden flair. He realized it all too well. To be able to calculate the combinations was one thing, but to impose the right thoughts to the others' minds was another. He loved those little secret battles and he loved the inevitable moments of surrender, when he knew he managed to mislead his opponents exactly where he wanted them to be. He craved it and he knew he was good at it. No… he had no match; that was the right word.

The only one who realized what Leonard was capable of was Shiro. And only Shiro alone was sometimes able to resist. But in the end, he was always defeated, just like everyone else. But Shiro did not mind since Leonard would always share the prize evenly with him. Even if they had won quite a fortune, as the last week. Leonard remembered the ride back home, when they had been burying themselves into the seats of the night-bus. And surprisingly, it was Shiro who had broken the silence first:

...

"_Miko needs a change. Something new..." Shiro muttered plainly and placidly; he did not even turn his head away from the window. So for a moment, Leonard wondered if he was supposed to answer at all._

_"And do you have something particular in mind?" he asked finally. "The engine again?"_

"_Mmm... No. No, I'm satisfied with the performance, I'd say. For now." Shiro replied absentmindedly. "The new brakes are also not bad." _

_Leonard almost choked. "Not bad?!" he exclaimed. "I thought I'd have to peel my eyeballs off the windshield when you first tried them! What else would you call 'not bad'?"_

"Gome_..." Shiro bowed his head in his usual manner, but grinned this time. "But you know, that's what I wanted to hear."_

"_What?"_

"_Well, that's exactly the feeling you should have with good brakes." Shiro smirked. "And I just wanted to make a little test…"_

_Leonard welcomed the more relaxed feeling from Shiro and smiled as well. "Ah, I see." he replied slyly, "Sorry, I was maybe too busy keeping the contents of my stomach in place."_

_Shiro glanced at Leonard sideways and laughed quietly. "You know," he began, spinning one of the metal rings around his thin finger. "It can get quite exciting when you become used to it."_

"_Are you trying to indicate something?" Leonard asked, curious, sliding down the backrest and leaning his head against it._

"_I've been thinking about it for a while now..." Shiro answered calmly. "Listen," he continued then, "would you like to come to the circuit with me? Next Saturday?"_

"_Me?" Leonard asked, surprised and feeling flattered inside. "What would I do there?"_

"_What..?" Shiro shrugged. "What everyone else does. Go for a ride, pick up some girls... "_

"_Sounds about good." Leonard smiled, trying to hide a certain little wave of panic._

"_You bet!" Shiro grinned back. "So, what about Miko? She deserves a change, yes?"_

"_I'm still not quite sure what do you mean."_

"_I was thinking about changing the spoilers and rims." Shiro explained eventually. "I don't know… I got bored by the current look." _

"_Anything you wish." Leonard shrugged. "What am I to say? You know I'd never even dare to look at her without your permission."_

_At that moment, Shiro finally turned to look at Leonard. "I know." He said, showing his teeth. "But yeah, I have some idea about the shapes," he continued, "but I'm not sure about the color. I mean, I still want Miko black but the silver rims are getting really dull. Any suggestions?" Shiro lifted a brow._

"_Mmm." Leonard was thinking. _Yellow? No, too loud. Red..._ He looked at Shiro. _Well, it would match his current hair color, but that may change quickly... _"Green." He stated finally. "Definitely green." And when he looked at Shiro, he knew the last barrier between them had just fallen down._

_...  
><em>

Yes, Shiro was different, there was no doubt. Sometimes, when Leonard observed his reserved, distant, thoughtful eyes he wondered where he had seen them before. But it was the same as with Bret. No matter how that feeling was intense and familiar, he would not remember anything concrete.

Noises roused him from his musings.

Leonard turned his head over the other shoulder and watched the door. It opened and Shiro walked in first. He checked Leonard briefly, as if standing in the window was something usual and rather boring. Then there was Derek, a weird guy with long dark dreadlocks who was constantly smoking. He held the door for Bret who was carrying a space heater. Shiro switched the light on.

"See?" called Bret, grinning at Leonard. "I said I'd get something."

"Oh, I've never doubted that." Leonard let a sweet lie escape his lips.

"Thanks." Bret acknowledged but his smile was more than cautious. He stood the device on the ground and plugged it. Then he viewed his guitar intently, almost like checking if something had happened to the instrument while he was away. It made Leonard smile. He did not fully understand this behavior but found it cute in a way.

When Bret finally straightened, he glanced at the window. "Something nice there?" he asked.

"It's snowing." Leonard answered dreamily.

Bret raised his brows. "And?"

"Nothing particular." Leonard breathed in reply.

"So… still not willing to join us?" Bret tried, a light grin touching his lips, the bright eyebrows climbing higher.

Leonard sighed. "I believe we've discussed the matter several times."

"I know." Bret replied and shrugged. "And I still think you're just wasting your talent. Trust me, you'll regret it once."

Leonard let out an amused laugh and looked over his shoulder again. "No Bret, _I _won't. There's a promising career in front of me. And as you'll end up in a garage and I don't know what other sort of sleazy pub entertaining tosspots, I'll be discovering the elements and forces of the universe and earning a lot of money for it." He smirked. "Life is neat, isn't it?"

"What?! This music is not about entertaining tosspots and you know it!" Bret retorted, frowning. "And where do you plan to arrange such a great career, by the way? Stark Industries, I presume?" He puffed at the heater and hit it a few times. "Work, you crap!" He commanded the device.

"Why not?" Leonard wondered.

"Wait, last time you told me you wanted to own a big casino…" Shiro pointed at Leonard with a drumstick and scratched at his temple with another.

"He might have both." Derek breathed out the smoke and smirked. "Especially if he gets a good position around Stark."

"And why are you so certain about it, if I may ask? 'Cause he was the only one who paid attention at Stark's lecture?" Bret asked, seemingly irritated by the remembrance, as he stuggled to make the heater work.

"Why, it was interesting." Leonard shrugged. "Not to mention there was no one else to answer his questions."

"Answer his questions?" Bret snorted. "Tell you what, an independent observer would tell you were flirting."

"Aw." Leonard made a face. "You think me so handsome I could compete with Miss Potts?"

"Actually, when drunk enough he might confuse you with her in the dark." Shiro suggested, narrowing his thoughtful eyes.

"No. Don't you rememeber the lecture?" Bret opposed. "Apparently just the fact that someone was able to follow his thoughts seemed to turn the Iron Man on."

"Please. Don't tell me you're jeallous, guys." Speaking sweetly, Leonard lifted a suspicious brow, a victorious smile plastered over his face.

"Fuck you." Bret snapped sharply, pointing at his friend. "And anyway, we'll see who's going to be the envious one in the end." He insisted, calming down as he watched the coils of the heater turn red. "Once I see you there..." he began again, looking at Leonard and scratching his head, "It'll be good to get some canvas or something to cover the window."

Leonard chuckled silently. "No problem. Just remind me to strip a few semitrailers from their tilts on the way back home. Oh, and fuck you back."

"Hey. I'm serious." Bret protested.

Leonard turned, slightly annoyed. "Bret, dear friend, like it or not, it's winter now, and you'll be cold here."

"No, I won't!" Bret declared flatly. "I _pay_ for this space so I _want_ to use it. And such things like winter won't stop me!" The sound of Bret's voice reminded Leonard of a spoiled child.

"Hm… Maybe there is a way..." Leonard replied in a mysterious voice and waited. That was another thing he loved about Bret. He loved to tease the guy.

"What?" Bret gave Leonard a suspicious glance while fighting with a cable, his expression doubtful.

Leonard smiled approvingly. Sometimes he forgot that Bret was less prone to his teasing than Leonard expected him to be. But he chose to move on anyway. "Well, maybe you should try practicing with gloves on your hands." Leonard suppressed the jerk threatening his lips and continued. "I can lend you my mittens if you want. I don't need them anyway."

A second of quiet later, Bret's frown turned into a light smile, which eventually turned into a coarse laughter. "Not bad. I shall give it a try it one day!" He resounded merrily as he knelt in front of the heater and started rubbing his hands together, trying to warm his fingers.

"All right. I think it's okay now." He announced after a while and stood up.

"You think?" Leonard asked with a suspicious hint.

"I know. Tell me what do you want to hear." Bret stated confidently. "Come on. Anything."

"Mmm... All right. What would I like to hear?" Leonard looked up, index finger on his thin lips. "What about Ceremony? For the beginning?" He turned slightly to glance at Bret. "You haven't played that one for a while now. I heard the original yesterday but I won't mind a repetition."

"Pff!" An answer sounded.

"What 'pff'?" Leonard turned around.

"Easy as pie."

„Oh, is it?" Leonard asked doubtfully. "Then I'm particularly interested in the quick part in the middle."

"No problem. But..." Bret hesitated, furrowing his brows slightly. "There's just Derek on the bass today. The sound's going to be a bit plain, I'm afraid."

"What a pity!" Added Leonard and got down elegantly. "And I believed I could choose anything..."

"Fine! You'll get what you want." Bret retorted.

Leonard had to grin when he saw Shiro rolling his eyes and spinning a drumstick around his fingers.

"Hey, what are we waiting for?" Bret glared nervously at his companions.

"Just a sec, dude." Derek coughed, sucked in the smoke for a few times more and put the remnants of the cigarette to the ashtray.

Leonard leaned against the wall and listened. He knew the song note by note but still he could listen to it over and over. Of course it sounded different in Bret's interpretation and he missed some sounds from the original version, but he loved it anyway. In the end it was not bad at all. And even if the sound was indeed a bit plain, it was full of energy.

"So, what do you say?" asked Bret when he gulped some water, appearing satisfied with himself.

Leonard was thinking for a moment. "It was… interesting. Almost precise."

Bret tilted his head. "Almost?"

"Yes. If not for those three mistakes..." Leonard answered innocently as he paced toward him.

"What mistakes?" Bret wrinkled his forehead.

"Well, man, your fingers failed you once. I've noticed." Derek agreed as he lit up another cigarette.

"And twice you played completely out of the time." Shiro added matter-of-factly. "I know you like to get fascinated by yourself, but there are others, too. You should finally learn how to hold on to the rhythm."

"And who do you think you are? Bonzo?" Retorted Bret and frowned at Shiro.

"I'm quite glad I'm not." Shiro answered calmly and ran the drumstick around his fingers again, as easily as ever.

"Now then, if I'm not mistaken, that makes three." Leonard resumed the mockery and rubbed a non-existing dust off Bret's shoulder.

"You're all so clever, right? Just wait..." uttered Bret silently and waved off Leonard's hand.

Leonard smiled, grabbed Bret's shoulders and shook him a little. "Oh come on, Thor, don't be - " Leonard stopped, confused by the words that just escaped his mouth. That was odd.

Bret turned around swiftly, tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "What did you call me?"

"Just... normally..." Leonard replied, his voice much too uncertain. He looked at the others.

"No." Bret snorted a short laugh. "You called me _Thor_. And that's _not_ my name if I recall correctly."

"Did I?" Leonard asked, confused even more.

Shiro nodded silently.

"You bet." Derek grinned.

"But... why should I say such a thing?" Leonard laughed nervously. "I do not know of any - "

"How can you be so sure?" Bret stopped him. "I think that you _must_ have known someone with this name. Otherwise, why would you say it?" Then he grinned widely. "And probably he looks like me!" Looking at the others, he let out an amused laugh.

Leonard hung his head and closed his eyes. _It's here again._ He covered his face with his palms. He felt he was so close; that something was coming back from a long distance. However, the same way as before, just before he managed to realize the images in his mind, they faded away in fog. Everything blurred and his head erupted in pain.

He knitted his brows together tightly. "Sorry I... have to go downstairs."

"You're okay?" Bret asked him, a serious expression spreading over his face.

"Yeah. Just a headache." Leonard answered quietly and set off to the exit.

ooOOOoo

The headache grew stronger with each step he took. Before he managed to get down the stairs, Leonard almost feared he could not see. Somehow he managed to open the door of the apartment and take his shoes and coat off.

_Where's that stupid painkiller again?!_ He complained as he searched the box with medicaments and then all the shelves and drawers. Unsuccessfully.

_Oh..!_

He felt like crying. _It's impossible for something to be lost in here!_ He thought, full of disbelief and anger.

Truth be told, he was actually right: things got seldom lost in such a small space. Their flat comprised of just a small hall, a bathroom so tiny one could hardly turn around there, and a bit more comfortable living room with a kitchenette in one corner. Well, it was also a bedroom, since in the other corner stood a big double-bed and opposite to it was a couch Shiro slept on. And a few other necessary pieces of furniture. That was all. Oh, and a stereo standing on the shelf between the two windows. The very first thing Bret brought there. Leonard felt happy they had access to the parking lot and to the roof. The three of them would have gone insane here, otherwise.

In the end, Leonard found what he was looking for on Shiro's nightstand. He grabbed the pack nervously and took two pills. When he gulped some water and swallowed he rested his forehead against the cupboard and held his breath. He was considering feverishly what to do now. Move to the bed and lay down? Or better lean against the wall in the bathroom? The second choice did not sound so comfortable, but he would be close enough to the toilet in case his stomach would choose to get rid of its content. He tried to wait and stay still just for a while longer. Then he moved, carefully and slowly, and reached the bed.

ooOOOoo

Leonard woke up as he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Lenny?" Bret's voice sounded as if coming from a long distance. The caring tone was a bit funny, though. "Lenny!" Bret shook him gently. "Still alive?"

Leonard opened one eye slowly and searched Bret's face. "Never..." he uttered in a coarse voice and coughed. "Never call me that again. Unless you wish to experience a horrible, slow death." He added.

Bret laughed lightly. "Look, unless _you_ wish to experience that, move away. This is my side."

Leonard grumbled reluctantly and hugged the pillow. "I was actually thinking about a small change. You would like it at the window, it's neat there."

"No no no, forget it! And roll away, or I'll do it." Bret protested half-heartedly as he stood up.

"All right. If it's you..." Leonard agreed in the end and sat up, watching Bret return to the hall. He rubbed his eyes carefully. "It's okay now. The headache."

"That's good to hear." Bret answered from the hall where he was taking his coat off. "So. Have you managed to recall who Thor is?" he called out as he hung his coat on the hook.

"No." Leonard sighed quietly.

"What about the Master of Thunder? Son of Odin?" Offered Shiro when he entered the room.

"Oh-ho! That would be cool!" Bret chirped. "You know, Lenny, you'll have to introduce the guy to me when you meet him again."

"Yeah... sure." Leonard whispered as he had to close his eyes firmly and frown at the new and sudden wave of pain.

ooOOOoo

"So, how did you like this one?" Bret asked quietly as the movie ended and the three companions watched the credits silently, half sitting, and half lying on the double bed. The room was dark except the dim light emitted by a bedside lamp and the screen of a laptop that sat on the bed, supported with a thick tome with a slightly provocative title "Introduction to the Quantum Mechanics".

"Don't know." Leonard answered uncertainly and made a dent in the can he was holding. "I felt kind of sorry for that shape-shifting guy. He was the only interesting thing that happened to this movie."

"Hey, stop being so critical! It's a classic." Bret opposed and dug his elbow into Leonard's ribs.

"Hey!" Leonard exclaimed and raised his arm that held the can of beer. "I'm just trying to express my opinion, all right? Okay, the action was not bad but it still changes nothing on the fact that the whole plot is built on an absolutely insane time-paradox."

"Yeah, but… Why don't you just put that premise aside and enjoy the show?"

"No, Bret, even if I wanted to, I couldn't push the thought aside. It's just... illogical." Leonard insisted stubbornly and made the dent in his can a bit wider. "How could Connor send a bloke to the past to make him his father? That's a totally insane time-loop."

"Stop atomizing it!" Bret rolled his eyes, "Just take it as a fact. Besides, you've put up with a far worse time-paradoxes without a word." He added, smirking.

"For example..?" Leonard's brows rose.

"For example…" Bret cleared his throat and continued casually, "Lister being his own father," his lips curved, "Fry being his own grandpa…" And he stopped as he watched Leonard chuckle into his can, choking with the half-swallowed beer. The latter sat up and coughed, trying to suppress the laughter, wiping his mouth with his wrist.

"But this was supposed to be funny." Leonard answered when he calmed down a bit. "It's so absurd it's hilarious." He added and took another sip of beer. But then his body twisted with another wave of laughter and he spluttered the liquid in his hand.

"Watch out!" Bret exclaimed and grabbed a roll of toilet paper that stood on his nightstand, tore of a piece and tried to wipe the liquid from Leonard's face and arms. "Do you know how smelly it can get?" he reprimanded. "You're lucky it's not on the blanket!" Bret continued as he pushed Leonard back and resumed wiping his friend's chest.

"Oh yes, that's what I like it, Bret, don't stop…" the latter purred.

"Nah! Do it yourself!" Bret spluttered half angry, half amused as he threw the piece of paper in Leonard's face. "Hopeless." He added as he gulped his own beer. He let out an annoyed sigh and turned slightly to view the other side of the bed. "Look, you've awakened our friend." He smirked as he noticed Shiro's movements.

Leonard turned as well and watched Shiro sideways. "I wouldn't say so." He observed. "Look, he actually finished the beer. He must be delirious by now."

"Ha-ha, very funny of you." Shiro opposed, his weary eyes narrowed. "You can't tolerate much more."

"What are you talking about?" Leonard asked, sounding a bit offended. "I was not drunk last time. I was merely in a good mood."

"Yeah, whatever." Shiro concluded and folded his arms as he closed his eyes again.

Leonard just sighed and laid his head on Bret's shoulder.

"And what do you think you're doing right now?" Bret asked in surprise and annoyance.

"Right now?" Leonard opened one eye. "Many things. I'm sitting – well, almost lying, breathing... you'll have to specify it."

"All right." Bret coughed. "What is your head doing on my shoulder?"

"Just... resting."

„Resting?" Bret exclaimed. "You know, you should find yourself a woman for this."

"Uh… then I will have to look for a really big one." Leonard observed quietly.

Shiro let out something like a chuckle and stirred.

Bret sighed, resigned and helpless, and leaned his head against the headboard. "I'll be right back." He stated finally, stood up and walked to the hall.

And Leonard just smiled and blinked. Then he turned to Shiro. The latter had his eyes closed firmly, his hands together at his stomach, his fingers entwined.

"Shiro?" Leonard asked after a while.

"Hmm." His companion growled.

"Could you…" Leonard tried.

"No." Shiro retorted. "Today is _your_ turn to do the cleaning."

"All right." Leonard answered merrily and slithered lower. He reached out his left foot and pressed the Esc button with his toe, then held the upper frame of the laptop screen with his right foot and closed it.

"Wha..?" Shiro burst into living suddenly. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What… Just cleaning." Leonard stated innocently as he continued the process.

"Using your feet? Great!" Shiro grunted, sneaked out from the bed and grabbed his laptop sulkily.

"Thanks for taking over the cleaning for me." Leonard bubbled, all content, and sipped at his beer.

Shiro just uttered an indefinite noise and started wiping his laptop with a handkerchief.

"There's still your book over there." Leonard added after a moment. When he did not get any reaction from his friend, Leonard clenched the can with his teeth and clasped the cover of the book with his toes again. "Shiro! Come retrieve me!" he spoke into the can, smiling roguishly, moving the cover of the book up and down as if making it speak.

At that moment, Shiro stopped and stood up slowly. He paced deliberately to the bed and took the book. Then he stroked it's spine a few times. "Strange things, these books." He muttered to himself and placed a menacing look upon Leonard. "One can find useful information in them, but at another time, they can serve quite different purposes… More violent purposes, I'd say."

Leonard bent his knees instinctively and the can between his teeth resonated with a muffled chuckle.

Shiro viewed him from the slits between his eyelids. "But this one was far too expensive to waste on you."

"So you say, sweetheart." Concluded Leonard and took another sip.

„Hm…" Bret's voice sounded from the hall. "Sweetheart sounds about good." He peeked in the room carefully. It appeared he was holding a cell phone.

„Depends on who are you writing to." Leonard remarked.

"Ah… I've just decided to send a greeting to Elliot Hunter." Bret answered casually. "You know her?" He lifted a brow and darted a playful look at Leonard.

"What?" Leonard blurted out, sat up and turned to look at Bret.

"Well, you know, while some of us…" Bret begun, glancing slyly at Leonard, "fancy in wasting time with a mere staring at the woman…" he continued and turned his eyes back to the phone he was holding, "I, Bret Larsson, did not hesitate and got her number." He grinned as he stood in the doorway leaning against the doorframe, and resumed the writing. Then he muttered something and it seemed he finished the message.

"But…" Leonard uttered an appalled sound, "Wait, what have you written?"

Bret beamed, cleared his throat and continued in a solemn tone. "_My dearest, good lady, I have spent many days watching and admiring your beauty and delicacy. I have spent many nights -_ "

"Bret..?" Leonard asked in disbelief and tilted his head slightly.

"Don't intervene!" Bret reprimanded, frowning half-heartedly. "Er… where did I… Yes, um… _I have spent many nights dreaming about your…_"

"Bret." Leonard said with a silent menace in his tone and raised on his feet.

„Wait, man, this is getting pretty interesting!" Shiro stepped in as he tossed his blanket aside and sat up eagerly.

"_About your…_" Bret, overlooking Leonard's uneasiness, chuckled and retreated back to the hall, "_…closeness._" he added finally.

Shiro grumbled in disappointment and lay back.

"_I'm longing for you, and you know who I am._" Bret continued and pushed the door swiftly shut to keep Leonard at some distance for a second. "_With fervent love, L. W._" He finished reading the message.

"What the hell?!" Leonard shouted as he blurted in with a surprising force.

"Your message has been sent." Bret announced, satisfied, standing in the bathroom doorway.

"It's… This is my phone!" Leonard uttered, stunned. Shiro started from his couch again.

"Bret," Leonard hissed, "I will kill you for this." He spoke in a low, menacing voice as he pointed at his chuckling friend. He paused as the phone sounded with an incoming return message. "You'll die suffering in a particularly disgusting manner." He added then.

"Well, my lad, now you can. This was worth it." Bret answered calmly, with amusement in his voice, pressed the phone to Leonard's chest and returned to the living room.

"Bret, I…"Leonard was still pointing at his friend, but a smile was making its way to his features. "Perhaps you missed the point but I meant it. I _will_ hurt you. I will do you something _very_ nasty. Do you realize that?"

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind." Bret gave a grunt as he made his way under the blanket. "Switch the light off, please."

"Hey, we're not finished!" Leonard exclaimed as he leapt to the bed, grabbed the sheet and uncovered his colleague with one jerk. "I'm talking to you!"

"And what is it?" Bret snapped angrily. "Are you mad or what?"

"Yes! I considered you my friend." Leonard pointed out with a hint of disappointment in his low voice.

"And I am." Bret answered quietly, placidly.

"Then why did you do that?" Leonard opposed.

"Why?" Bret laughed slightly, sat up and crossed his arms. "What's wrong with you today?" he grinned and viewed Leonard intently. "You suffer some illness or what? It was just fun, nothing more."

"It was…" Leonard uttered in disbelief and looked at the cell phone.

Bret tilted his head back as he guffawed. "I don't know Elliot's number, I did not even speak with her." he revealed finally. "I still don't think that your staring at the girl will bring anything fruitful," he shrugged and smiled, "But I would never pry into your business."

"So," Leonard frowned, "To whom did you sent that message?" he added with a new horrifying realization in his voice.

"What?"

"I received the return receipt! So you must have sent it to someone." Leonard pressed as he went through the message list.

„It was uh… P. Compton? I think." Bret tried. "Isn't he the guy with whom you went climbing last time?"

Shiro spluttered.

"You idiotic oaf! That's _N._ Compton!" Leonard shouted. "P. Compton stands for _Professor_ Compton!"

A message rang at that moment. Leonard froze.

"What is it? What does he say?" Both Bret and Shiro crowded themselves eagerly around Leonard.

The latter cleared his throat as he finally dared look at the text. "_Apparently I was not meant as a receiver of your message, Mr. Wednesday._" Leonard read aloud; then paused to dart a meaningful glance at his companions. "_Nevertheless, know that I'm impressed and maybe a bit flattered, too. Pass my hearty greetings to your lady. Good luck and good night, A. C._"

"A. C.?" Bret's brows knitted.

"His name is Aldous or something…" Leonard frowned, too.

Bret laughed. "Well, assuming it's 1:30am, old Aldous or something took it quite good, hah?"

"Bret… Now I've got to kill you." Massaging his temples with his thumb and forefinger, Leonard spoke quietly. "Now I have to promise you."

"Yeah, make a note so you won't forget it." Bret sighed wearily as he covered himself. "And I would not care about Compton. I know nothing you couldn't talk your way out of. And turn the light off!"

ooOOOoo

Leonard was slowly coming to a realization that he was awake. It was still dark, though. But the nervous feeling that he would have to get up and go to school was soon repressed by a new realization. It was Saturday. And he did not have to go to work today, either. A warm and comforting feeling spread across his body. He decided to dig into his pillow even more and continue his sleeping peacefully. It was peculiar; he had not felt this good after awakening since ages. So secure and comfortable. So relaxed. He moved his head and hand, nuzzling into the soft fabric lazily.

But wait... Something was wrong.

He wanted to shield himself from the relentless reality, but in the end he had to admit the fact.

The fact that the mass he was sleeping on was not his pillow. The thing he was clinging to was not his soft blanket.

No.

It was not even a _thing_. It was a human. It was Bret.

Sleeping, snoring Bret Larsson.

A muted beep sounded and the room was suddenly filled with a dim light. _Shiro's mobile._ Leonard had gotten used to the fact that Shiro's friends did not mind any day or night hour. He received the messages constantly, regardless the time. Leonard raised his head slightly to check if Shiro was watching. However, the latter just growled in annoyance, grabbed his phone and tossed it back on the table straight away. Then he turned back to the wall and mumbled a few annoyed words in Japanese. And Leonard understood perfectly what Shiro was saying. And Leonard realized all too well that the words were spoken in Japanese. Another thing that had rather disturbed him recently. And well, again he rather chose to ignore it.

Leonard sighed and laid his head back on Bret's wide shoulder. For a while he trailed his eyes around the room, thinking about how to solve this situation; what to do to not wake Bret. Because if he did, something terrible would happen.

Bret hadn't gotten to his usual good-night phrase tonight, however, in most cases, just before they fell asleep, Bret would always announce that: 'Try to touch me and I'll kill you.' Well, the reason was simple. When they had moved in, they noticed that the owner had left a fully furnished apartment for them, but in a different manner than they had expected. Well, the single huge double-bed could have been suitable for the lady-visits the previous inhabitant had welcomed there; however, it was not so suitable for Bret and Leonard.

First night they had arranged a plan that each night someone would be sleeping on the ground. And well, after the great fiasco of that plan they had agreed that they would withstand a few nights together until they would figure out how to reorganize the space in the room, get the double bed out and buy two separated beds instead. However, happy or not, in the end they had found out that the option with the double-bed was the best space-saving solution available.

Leonard blinked a few times and viewed Bret intently. Good thing was that Bret would not wake up for a while now. Judging from the occasional snoring and teeth-grinding, it seemed that Bret was fast asleep. Worse thing was that Bret was holding Leonard, hugging him, actually, and grasping Leonard's hand in his. _If only you could see yourself right now, dear Bret… _Leonard almost laughed.

After a hesitant moment Leonard tried to move. No reaction. _Good. We'll try a bit more…_ But at that moment, Bret stirred a bit, let out a disapproving sound and hugged Leonard even tighter.

_Great._

Leonard breathed out heavily and paused in thought again. _How is that even possible? How and why it happened?_ He looked at Bret. _Is he..?_

_No, certainly not. Certainly not Bret._ Well, Leonard was quite lean and slender, so Bret was most probably under an impression that he was hugging one of his girlfriends.

_But what about me?_ Leonard panicked for a second. After all, there were plenty of things he still hadn't found out about himself. He only realized that he felt very comfortable like that; in this position. Safe and protected. _But why?_ He could not tell.

He frowned in disbelief._ I was used to sleeping cuddled up with a bloke?_ He wanted to find the answer; he knew it was so close. But like always, he did not remember.

But no matter how he tried, no matter who he imagined, he found out with a relief that he was not attracted by men in any way. A friendship was binding him with Bret and Shiro, but that was all. And when he tried to imagine something more it just felt wrong.

And on the contrary, when he started to think about women he knew immediately that it was the right feeling. He loved how the girls watched him and giggled around him. He loved how they blushed when they passed by, looking in his eyes as he refused to look away. And then there was Elliot. His tall, slender and charming classmate with long, dark hair. She would always sit a few rows below in the lecture room, always at the edge, near the window, so her dark hair would reflect the light. And he just had to watch those reflections. Even if it took the whole lecture.

However, he still was not aware how exactly to react to that. In fact, he had just started realizing other people's existence. Until now he had been too busy discovering his own personality: how to cope with his weird life and how to get to know himself. But as the time passed, he noticed that he had maybe just been wasting the time of his present life. _I can't remember anything, anyway. And if I find out something about me, it's usually odd and strange._ And so he was not sure anymore that he really wanted to remember. _Maybe it's better like that…_ he mused finally.

_Although…_ He inhaled and smiled to himself. As long as women were considered, he knew it would come. It must have. He still was not certain if it actually was a real memory or not, if it was a dream or an illusion or whatever. The face of an unknown woman.

There were days when her image got clearer, so he could recognize all the delicate features. And there were days when it would come up so blurred he could not tell any detail. It was an image that would appear out of nowhere, mostly at the time when he was falling asleep or awakening. It was a truly beautiful, brown-haired woman, whose face was marked with fear and fright. At the days when he could see her image clearly, he was wondering why she felt like that? What was the cause of her fear? Sometimes it felt that her worried eyes were staring at him. And a terrific thought would invade his mind. _What if I was the cause..? No, it can't be. I would never have hurt her,_ he tried to persuade himself.

Frowning at this disturbing thought, Leonard let himself get carried away so he did not notice that something was happening. He heard Bret's confused, coarse voice.

"Leonard?"

_What now?_ After some chaotic thinking Leonard decided that just doing nothing would be the best. Or better, to pretend that he was still fast asleep and thus not aware of anything inappropriate.

"Asleep?"

_What a stupid question! Of course I'm… Not._

"Sorry man, but my arm is dying." Bret rasped silently.

_What?_

And before Leonard could realize that the whole episode would get by without any consequences, he felt Bret's struggle to lift Leonard's head carefully, just enough to push him aside and not wake him up. Leonard, on the other hand, had to struggle not to burst in laughter.

As soon as he felt his pillow under his cheek, Leonard heard a last remark.

"I think you're just missing someone. But it's not me." Bret whispered just before he fell back asleep.

Now, that was a curious thought. Well, but maybe quite true. Leonard had to admit that Bret was probably right.

He missed someone. Badly. But he did not know who. And that realization was far worse than the feeling alone.

From the moment he had awakened in the hospital until now Leonard would never think about himself with pity.

_Until now. _

In that moment, everything reached him suddenly. Everything he had ever wanted to complain about, but did not know where; everything he'd wanted to pity, but hadn't had a chance. Until tonight. He finally realized what he had wanted to and what he needed to do a long time ago.

And so he clutched his pillow and let his silent tears fall.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for following my story and for all the patience!<strong>

**Please review!**


	8. Shape of My Heart, Part I

This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend **Shipperwolf**, the most talented Lokane-stories author ever.

* * *

><p>And I own nothing, as usual.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Shape of My Heart, Part I<strong>

_Those who speak know nothing  
>And find out to their cost<br>Like those who curse their luck in too many places  
>And those who smile are lost<em>

_(Sting; Shape of my Heart)_

* * *

><p>Should there be something more to Jane's present life, it would be fun. At a certain point, all the stiffness and seriousness had suspended, dissolved and vanished. Now her work and entire life was a sort of fun. Kind of exciting.<p>

Exactly as it was meant to be.

Yes, it started to be fun, and especially the last two days, when the infamous figure of Iron Man had chosen to step into her life once again. She hadn't noticed at first that her anger, jealousy and feeling of injustice subsided and went missing somewhere in the past. The ever so brilliant and self-confident Tony Stark was there again, but this time showing keen interest in their research, offering help, cooperation and money. What a strange shift in intentions.

And well... Not that Jane did not welcome it.

She didn't know when exactly it had happened, but somewhere in the past three years, her innocent and naïve view of the world and the world of science in particular had changed into something more calculating, realistic, and most of all pragmatic.

_It's all about money, after all._

She had always hoped that science lived freed from something so superficial and low. But no. The opposite was true and she had gradually learned to take that in account.

At the luncheon that had included the research group, some SHIELD representatives and Anthony Stark in person, the latter had chosen to sit by her side. He had not minded their director or SHIELD people. He would rather share his thoughts with her, Eric and Garo and smirk at the standoffish queries coming from the bosses at the opposite side of the table. Most likely he just couldn't help such behavior; it was simply his temper.

And it made Jane feel relaxed. All that charms, witty remarks and teasing, it felt natural. Or maybe she'd gotten used to it, Jane noted to herself as she had glanced at Leonard, who had obediently taken the seat at his professor's side. But he hadn't returned the look and seemed rather busy with his own thoughts. And so she had found herself consumed by the refreshing interaction with Mr. Stark for the rest of the day...

Jane stopped her musings as she and Tony entered the main building after an overall inspection of the research grounds the next day.

They went through the gate and legitimated themselves. "Thanks, buddy." Tony winked at the gatekeeper, who abruptly turned his unconcerned face back to the TV.

Tony froze at that, his forehead creasing. "What's wrong with the guy?"

"Well," Jane shrugged, "I guess he's a regular gatekeeper?" she offered, slightly confused. She had to wait for her eyes to get accustomed to the darker environment of the indoor space. "Or… what's wrong?"

Tony shrugged back. "Nothing particular. I'm just used to the fact that I make people blush. Or giggle. Or just _react_ in some way."

"Oh, I see!" Jane answered. "But dear Tony, you don't have to be sad. I think he's just gotten used to to your face. He'd seen you wink from the TV screen too many times to care anymore." Jane explained patiently, smiling merrily.

Tony showed some of his eyebrow art before answering. "You definitely know how to raise a man's self-confidence, Miss Foster. You should talk to Pep."

"I'd like to." Jane grinned. "By the way, when is she coming?"

"Friday I think. Yeah…" He paused in thought and reached to the inner pocket of his jacket for his smart phone. "Speaking of which, what about some team-building this weekend?"

"Team-building?" Jane's brows went up this time.

Tony sighed. "What, too much business jargon?" he scratched the back of his head. "Okay, how to express it in your way… A mixer? A get-together party..?" He offered.

"Don't worry Mr. Stark, you can say 'drinking'. I won't consider it a dirty word." Jane crossed her arms and put on a challenging smile.

"Oh, Jane. Now I'm dying to hear all the words you actually _do_ consider dirty." Tony narrowed his eyes playfully.

Jane chuckled. "You don't want to, trust me _Tony_." She bit her lip as she stared him down. "You may find yourself amongst them." She added, purring, and straightened his tie with one hand. Then she flashed him an innocent smile, turned around and headed to the offices.

Jane did not regret spending the whole morning with Tony. She liked his unconventional attitude and found it a cute in its own way, though one should better be constantly aware in Mr. Stark's presence.

_They are so similar,_ she realized as Leonard immediately invaded her train of thought. She stopped for a brief moment to wait for Tony and poured her some water from the reservoir.

The building was almost abandoned. It was the lunch time.

However, there was something unexpected present in the air. Something she was used to hear rather at evenings... She liked music, even if Eric would always listen to the same stuff over and over and Jane had come to sense it as a sort of white noise at times. She _still_ liked music, and so she rather welcomed the little change brought into this area by Leonard and his slightly different taste. And in this case it was quite clear that the one who had pushed the play button was certainly not Eric.

Two voices could be heard, singing along. One of them slightly high-pitched and slightly false, whereas the second one melodic and fascinating.

"Hm, seems like someone's quite ahead with the party plans…" Tony noted as he passed by.

Jane gulped the water quickly and followed her companion. She checked her watch. "It's quarter to twelve. So I guess Tek showed up out of the blue sky in Leonard's office and it turned out they're skipping the lunch."

The moment Jane caught up with Tony, Tek's wide eyes, the white contrasting with his bronze skin, peeked out of the incriminated office. The voices quieted and the music was turned down.

"N'aaww… We have visitors!" Tek's voice chimed as he stepped out from the office doorway. He wore his favorite black t-shirt with white letters that said 'Are you sure it's plugged in?'.

As they approached, Tony grinned at the sight. "You're my man." He said and winked at the IT expert.

The latter smiled widely. "I guess I'm busy _here_." Tek declared. "But you can always hire me for a part-time job." He added as he retreated, the toothy grin still in place.

"See?" Tony's smug smile found its way to his features once more. "That's how you react to Tony Stark."

Before Jane could bite back a proper answer, Tony turned from her and peeked into the office.

Leonard was the one left there, arching over his desk, supporting his cheek in a rather annoyed manner with his wrist, observing the computer screen and taking notes into his book.

Jane did not recognize the song; it sounded quite rough, but she decided it was fairly catchy.

"Hey, what a lively space! Anyone there?" Tony greeted as he made a few tentative knocks at the doorframe.

"No." An unconcerned answer came.

"Groundbreaking! Interactive offices. I'll have to think about it." Tony noted quietly to Jane, glancing over his shoulder. "And what about me coming in?" he resumed, somewhat louder, his eyes widening, expectant.

"Double no." Leonard replied calmly.

"Just... What's wrong with all the young people today?!" Tony began as if pensively as he paced in and around the table to lean against it right beside Leonard. "Feelin' fine?"

The lean man remained silent and did not look up; he just released the wrist that supported his head and flashed sign of the horns in reply.

"Hm. That's… interesting. Of you, I mean." Stark answered, his eyelids fluttering minutely.

It took a moment for the words to sink into Leonard's occupied mind, but then he frowned and turned his head to look up at Tony.

"What?"

"Ah, nothing. Just my random thoughts." Tony replied, waving his hand as if chasing a away an irritating fly.

"Sure? Because I can show you some other fingers, if you like." Leonard uttered in a bored and annoyed tone.

"Hey!" The amusement seemed to bubble out from Tony's voice a bit. He turned and lifted his eyebrows at Jane. "And aren't you supposed to look after the good manners of your students?"

Jane cleared her throat and put on a slight smirk. "Erm… If I'm not mistaken, Garo is in charge in this case." She approached the desk and smiled wickedly at Leonard who darted a roguish look at her. "Besides, you are his senior schoolmate, yes?" she rested her chin on her shoulder as she turned to Tony. "Then go on, I'd love to watch you giving our student a lesson in polite behavior."

Leonard bit his lip.

Tony blew out some air and drummed his fingers on his cheek. "Dear Jane, I guess it's too late in this case."

"My offer still stands." Leonard chirped in reply, glancing quickly at his victim.

"I'm counting on it, no worries." Tony answered calmly, unoffended, as he straightened and took a step closer to the stereo. "Hm… Black Sabbath." He hummed.

"Hm… correct." Leonard acknowledged, continuing the writing.

"One would think," Tony resumed, "you'd play their other song to greet me."

If Leonard's gaze could kill, Tony would be lying stiff on the ground already.

But the latter just glanced slyly at Leonard, enjoying the advantage. "Plus… This is not even Ozzy!"

Another killer-glance. "No, this is Ronnie. I like him better." Leonard replied wryly.

"Do you? I'd be careful." The corner of Tony's mouth twisted up.

"Aah, I see!" Leonard sighed with a feigned relief and understanding. "Another idiot who thinks Sabbath means Ozzy…"

"And doesn't?" Tony shrugged, surprisingly calm. "And secondly… I pay you from now on, Mr. Wednesday." He lowered his voice almost menacingly as he drew closer to Leonard. "So I'd advise you to start realizing that."

"Strange… Somehow I don't remember asking for it." Leonard's eyes narrowed and a doubtful wrinkle appeared between his dark eyebrows as he finally straightened.

Tony waited for a long, tense moment. Then suddenly his brows shot up and his eyes looked away. A slight, thoughtful smile settled on his features. "Well, if I were you, I'd be happy for receiving the extra money." He added, sounding mysterious, and looked back in Leonard's eyes.

"Why so?" Leonard asked, tilting his head.

"Let's see…" Tony kneaded his earlobe. "We've been thinking about a get-together party downtown." He noted tentatively, turning slightly to glance at Jane. "And who knows… It might involve some poker..?" Tony shrugged as he voiced his idea.

"Oh. Really?" Jane voiced her doubt in reply.

"It might involve some poker…" Leonard repeated silently, turning back to check something on the computer screen. "Then I will have you know, Mr. Stark, that it should be _you_ gathering all the funds."

Tony ran a thumb over his lip. "Was that a threat, hon?"

Jane smiled nervously at the slight tension forming in the air again. But then she caught a glimpse of a movement. It was Darcy, smirking and leaning lazily against the doorframe.

"A mere warning." Leonard weighed the words. "Less than that, actually. Just a notification."

"Seems like someone's getting snooty again." Darcy intervened.

Leonard gave her a quick glance and grinned. "I don't need to." He assured. "I'm just trying to be good and show some mercy before it's too late." He purred and took the pen to take another note. "Since anyone who wants to challenge me in this game should be aware that I would rob them without a second thought."

"And may I ask where does all this confidence come from?" Tony wondered, looking Leonard up and down.

"I've played with many. And I've never lost." The lean man answered and continued the writing. "It's just that simple."

"Isn't that intriguing…" Tony remarked unfathomably, "I can say the same." He concluded as he leaned back against the desk. "Then I guess we owe the world this battle, what do you think, my lad?" He asked, lifting a mischievous eyebrow.

"What I think is unimportant." Leonard put the pen down and straightened. "But there's one thing certain. You can put all your wealth at stake, Mr. Metal Bloke," he stated silkily as he reached out and adjusted Tony's collar, "and I'll still crush you down."

It almost felt like there's something unspoken between them.

"Wait, wait, wait, this definitely calls for more!" Darcy walked to them, wearing an expression of an eager discoverer. "Let's make a bet." She declared, leaning over the desk beside the silent Jane.

"Very well!" Tony resounded in appreciation. "Look at Miss Lewis. She's got quite a talent for making things interesting, yes?" He noted happily as he wrapped an arm around Leonard's shoulders, forcing the latter to turn and face the two women.

"Oh yeah?" Darcy grinned proudly. "Then how about this: If you lose... You cut your hair." She stated with a victorious smile, looking straight into Leonard's eyes. "Or - Wait! You bleach it blonde!" She laughed, excited about her new idea and glanced at Jane who was standing on her spot rather stiffly.

"Hm…" Leonard just brought his hand up to his mouth and bit the nail of his thumb. "Such an extreme dilemma." He muttered and gave Darcy a cold, piercing stare.

"You like it?" Darcy asked, curious.

"Why, of course not. I just… Can't decide which option is worse."

"Then what about both?" Tony offered as he shook the lean figure he was still holding, tilting his head to get into Leonard's view, cocky grin widening his features.

Leonard sighed heavily. "_Die young, die young…_" Not even trying to shake off Tony's clasp, Leonard just sung along with the song, glancing away, still biting the nail.

"Me?" Tony's brows climbed up.

"What?" Leonard gave him a surprised stare. "Be calm, it's quite too late for you."

"Hello!" Darcy called out then. "We're still discussing the bet! So..?"

"Well, since I don't have to be afraid of anything, I shall agree happily." Leonard claimed as he finally took off Tony's hand and patted it, giving him a daring smirk.

"Cool!" Darcy grinned.

"But you must have forgotten about your part in this." Leonard reminded and looked Darcy in the eye.

"Right. Then if you win," She leaned closer, "you may ask anything you want from me."

"Erm," Tony cleared his throat meaningfully, "I guess young blood requires some privacy now. Perhaps we shall retreat, then..?" He stated as he spun around, holding up his arms. "What do you think, Jane?" he asked innocently as he sidled up to her side, offering an arm for her to hold on.

"Um…" she uttered as they set off to the doorway.

"Oh, and - " Tony stopped abruptly, just before they walked out of the room. "At the circumstances given," he paused and rubbed his temple with the index finger, "I'd sincerely like to bring all my wealth at stake. I'm sure it's worthy."

A sigh.

"If only Pepper allowed me…" One last smug smile, and they were gone.

ooOOOoo

That afternoon, Jane found herself rushing through the corridor, lost in thought. But suddenly, something made her stop.

She looked up from her book. Two intriguing green eyes smiled in her way.

"Hi, Leonard." she greeted, her voice kind of shaky.

"Good morning, Lady Jane." He answered merrily and disappeared in his office.

Jane retreated gladly to her own room. But for an undefined moment, she was just standing there, halfway to her desk, unable to make a move.

_Now seriously, Jane. Let's have a talk. Time to make some business clear. _She mused finally and moved to sit down in the chair. Then she turned to the window and sighed as her eyelids slid down wearily.

She tried to deny it at first, however, in the end she had to admit that from this day on, her life was beginning to slide along a downward spiral again. But it just was not fair. After such a few and rare moments of relative calm... She deserved more, didn't she?

Yes.

But...

Since when all the things had stopped being simple and easy?

_Since you dared peek out from your shell and notice the world around once more. Since you've started realizing things, and noticing the reality and the people.  
><em>

_Since you've started noticing _certain_ people around you._

Precisely.

When she had started to notice Leonard Wednesday as a real person, at first, it felt refreshing and relaxing. But now, it felt different.

Jane felt uneasy.

The way he looked, the way he spoke, the way his forehead wrinkled while he was thinking something over, the way his slender fingers moved while typing, the way he smiled… There was something very unusual about it all. Something more. Something unfathomable. Something… Nice. Comforting. Appealing and distinguished. Or maybe even noble.

Whatever it could have been, it was digging and sinking into Jane's mind. And it was slowly becoming settled in her thoughts. And yes, it made her feel uneasy. Because it was… Wrong. It was improper.

_Now, was it?_

_Or… _

Maybe it was not wrong at all. Quite the opposite, most probably her reaction was pretty normal.

But it bothered her. She wasn't supposed to feel like that. Not to mention she _was supposed_ to keep a certain Asgardian in her mind. However…

She was trying to deny it, to run from the truth, however, she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to.

_So, what now?_

She sighed.

_Perhaps you should have stayed hidden, Jane. The universe above may be cold and vast, but it is so much simpler than this world. It would listen to you no matter what. It would show you all its beauty and charms freely, unconditionally. Yet, the complexity of this life wasn't meant for you to discover._

A voice coming from outside her office roused her from the concerned thoughts.

"Wednesday?" she heard the director asking. And Leonard most likely answered, since the director continued: "You have visitors. In the conference room."

Without other words spoken, she heard quick footsteps.

Jane turned away from the window. She was eager to follow him to see who it might have been. However, in the end she just let out a long sigh and chose to finish the notes in her book instead.

_Well, Miss Darcy "The Interesting" will be there in no time, after all. And then she'll hurry up to throw every tiny detail in my face. Sure. With that pretty little innocent smile._ Jane snorted silently. She scowled for a second, but then reprimanded herself for being so unnecessarily sarcastic and tried to focus on her work.

But it took her several attempts to merely understand a paragraph she had written in her book previously. _Oh,_ c_ome on, Jane! Just forget about the world outside your door. You used to be good at it, remember?_

She sighed, disconcerted and annoyed with herself, and looked up and around her office. She stopped at the door. And startled, she held her breath. _What's that? Am I going insane?_

There was a small girl standing in the doorway. She was wearing a simple, long blue dress, had blonde-to-reddish, beautiful long hair and sky-blue, curious eyes. She was freckled on her nose and cheekbones. Her tiny pink lips twirled into a smile as she tilted her head, digging her immensely blue stare into Jane's eyes.

Well, Jane knew how to solve differential equations, but she felt rather insecure at handling people. And children especially.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Jane remembered to stop staring blankly. She blinked and smiled back. "Hello." She managed.

The girl smiled again. In a slyer way this time. "I know who you are." She said.

"Ah… I mean… really?" _Bravo, Jane. You speak like an idiot._

"You're Jane Foster." The girl twisted a bit, her clever grin growing wider.

_Wait, you must be…_ Jane suddenly remembered a part of the midnight talk with Leonard. _'She's seven.'_ He had said then.

"And you must be Leonard's little sister!" Jane grinned, too. "Please, come in." She added immediately.

"Daddy said I wasn't supposed to walk around here." The girl smiled kind of wickedly.

"Well, but here you are." Jane pointed out slyly. "Come on. I promise not to tell anyone. Not to mention I'm a rather nice person."

"I know." The girl reassured and ran to Jane. "Hm." She bit her tiny lip and watched Jane as she reached the desk and held onto it.

"And may I ask about your name?" Jane said quietly as she pushed herself from the table and moved with her chair closer to the child.

"You may." The girl answered and the corners of her mouth went up again.

_Witty girl._ Jane acknowledged silently. "Yeah... And would you please tell me?"

"Lena." The child answered then.

"Oh, what a beautiful name!" Jane really meant it and rather unintentionally stroked Lena's hair. "Um…" she was now thinking hard what else to say. "Do you… Do you like the stars?" Jane chose to retreat in the safe and familiar area.

"Yes!" Lena chirped.

"Then I have a really nice book here." Jane stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, where she picked up her favorite tome about space.

"Would you like to see some nice pictures?" She asked as she laid the book on her desk and opened it.

"I have this one, too." The girl grinned.

Jane stopped and lifted her brows. "You do?"

Lena nodded and took the heavy book in her small hands, dragged it closer and turned a few pages. She stopped at a page with the Sombrero galaxy. "I have this one pinned on the wall above my bed. Lenny had it printed for me."

Jane gasped. _This child…_ She simply couldn't comprehend it. Jane felt like looking through a magic mirror, viewing her own past. Her own childhood.

"I…" Jane began, her voice unsteady. "I also had a beautiful picture above my bed when I was a child." She took the book and went through several pages until she found it.

"That's the Horsehead Nebula!" the girl exclaimed and pointed at the picture.

_Is that possible?_ Jane marveled at the tiny figure beside her.

"Lenny knows an awesome story about it!" Lena added eagerly.

Jane felt a bit relieved at that remark. _She's a regular child, after all._

"Now, does he?" Jane wondered aloud. "I'll have to ask him, then…"

"Are you…" the tone of Lena's voice got suddenly serious. "Are you dating him?" she asked finally.

Jane felt as if her cheeks were about to set on fire. She cleared her throat. "No." She managed.

"Good." The girl acknowledged and turned the page.

Jane struggled not to giggle again. _So the little Lena here has a crush on her adopted brother? How sweet._

"My, my, who do I see?" Jane's heart pounded at the sound of the familiar voice coming from the doorway. She looked up to find Leonard there.

"Something was telling me I would find you here." His unfathomable tone matched perfectly the cunning expression in his face.

"But Danny ran away first!" Lena exclaimed in self-defense.

"And?" Leonard's eyebrows went up.

"That's not fair! Where is he now?" the child protested.

"He's with Tony Stark. Would you like to meet him, too?" Leonard asked then.

"Um… No." She uttered eventually. Leonard smiled and walked toward them. "So, would my good lady let me escort her to her parents?"

"No! Lenny, please!" the child pleaded and hid behind Jane. "Just a bit longer, we're having fun with Jane!"

"Is that so? And don't you feel ashamed using Lady Jane's fragile body as a shield?" Leonard narrowed his eyes in a playful manner and crossed his arms as he stepped closer.

_Wait!_ Jane smirked internally and decided to join the little game. "What exactly did you mean by 'fragile'?" She lifted a suspicious brow, hiding Lena fully behind her.

"Oh, it definitely wasn't my intention to imply anything bad." He continued solemnly as he took another step to close the distance, worming his mesmerizing green eyes in hers. "You're shrewd and brave, Lady Jane. However, even the bravest ladies can fall easily…"

"Fall where?" Jane uttered and felt the blush coming to her cheeks again. But then she felt a movement behind her as well, and the child stepped forward.

"How dare you threaten a Lady, sly thief?" Lena sounded boldly, her arms on her hips.

"Nah!" Leonard rolled his eyes. "Seems you still haven't forgotten?!" He bent forward slightly, placing his arms on his hips as well as leaned over to his little sister.

"Of course not! I lost because you cheated!" the girl shouted.

"Me?" Leonard lifted his eyebrows mockingly. "Can't be true." he shook his head, smiling openly.

"Liar!" Lena insisted. "But… You promised me I could keep the golden bow and arrow if I would leave the magical necklace to you. And I did..." she narrowed her blue eyes. "Do you remember?"

_What..?_ Jane uttered in her mind, confused.

"Well, and are you sure you want to use them now?" Leonard narrowed his eyes, too. "Wouldn't it be wiser to keep them until the next round?"

Lena shook her head mercilessly. "No! I - I think I will use them now. I shall split your dark heart in half!"

"Now then…" Leonard patted his lips as if nervously. "What am I to do now?" he waited a moment, placing a mischievous look upon Jane. Then he just put on a pleading expression and fell on his knees. "Please, good lady, have mercy on me!" He demanded as he slithered closer to Lena.

"Poor deceiver, you decided your fate long ago, there's no use in pleading now." Lena bent slightly forward to emphasize her words.

"Oh Lady Jane, do something before it's too late!" he begged and clasped Jane's hand between his palms.

Jane's hart leapt at the warmth. But she swallowed the feeling and a roguish smile appeared on her face. "I don't believe there's anything I can do. Don't you forget I'm just a fragile lady..."

"I see." He murmured, his voice sad and reconciled. He looked up to meet her eyes again. "But tell me, may I have a last look in your comely face before I die?"

Jane had to swallow again. She turned to Lena. "Is he worthy that privilege?"

"Of course not! He shall perish for his crimes!" Lena declared and fired her imaginary weapon. Leonard winced, caught his chest as if he was dying and fell on the floor.

Witnessing this scene, Jane was sure Leonard would make a great actor. He would certainly earn himself a huge applause for such a dramatic etude.

"So… What now?" Jane turned then and asked Lena with concern.

"We should run before someone discovers." The latter whispered, observing the doorway worriedly.

"Yeah… But I'm afraid I'll have to take a look at some recent results. You see, Leonard was in charge, but he picked chatting with Tek instead, so I'll have to do the job myself now." Jane arched one brow tentatively. "As usual."

"As usual?" Not moving, Leonard muttered to himself in disbelief.

A suspicious flash of green could not escape Jane's notice. She smirked and looked at Lena again. "Did you hear something?" Jane asked, her brows knitted, and looked around the room.

The child smiled knowingly. "No."

"Me neither." Jane agreed as she leaned against the desk, still frowning. "But it almost sounded as if someone was talking."

Instead of a response, a knock on the doorframe could be heard. "Excuse me." A comforting, soft, but unfamiliar voice sounded from the entrance. Jane turned and saw a woman.

Jane estimated her age around forty, though she looked still very beautiful and attractive. Her hair was curly, a slightly more reddish shade than that of Lena. Her face was angular with Greek-like features, the cheekbones distinct, as well as her nose.

The woman smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I just need to gather my children."

Jane smiled back. "I believe you can find some of them around here." She felt a small hand gripping her own at her words.

"It's Jane Foster!" Lena stated proudly.

"I know." The woman laughed lightly and nodded as she approached them. "My goodness. What's this?" she stopped at the view of Leonard lying on the floor.

"He's dead." Lena whispered.

"Oh no. Again?" The woman put her hands on her hips. "How sad…" she sighed sarcastically. "What do we do now?" she spoke half to herself and biting her lip, she viewed the desk of Jane's table. "I'll borrow this." Her lips formed more of a statement than a question as she winked at Jane and leaned over to grab a pen with soft yellow feathers.

Jane pressed her lips together tightly to suppress the giggle and nodded.

The woman stepped closer to Leonard's still form, bent down and let the feathers touch his neck gently.

Jane could see him struggle hard, however, the response was almost immediate. He just burst out chuckling as he tried to hide his neck behind his shoulder.

"Pretty much alive, huh?" the woman stated simply, smacked Leonard's thigh and straightened again. "Come on, get up!"

"Where am I?" Leonard asked as he sat up, observing the room, looking puzzled. "What happened?"

"Stop this, young man, or I'll announce a complete ban of Dungeons and Dragons in my house!" the woman declared flatly.

"No, mum, please!" Lena whined, gripping Jane's wrist with both hands.

"Same goes to you, Lena!" the mother pointed at her child. "Come." She added more softly and extended her hand. Lena hesitated, but then obeyed and took her mother's hand. "Now then," the woman smiled and stroked Lena's hair. "I apologize for this mess, Miss Foster."

"No, there's no need to!" Jane reassured straight away. Her stare turned to Leonard then, observing him getting up to his feet.

He checked his chest and shoulders. "Seems I'm all right again. What an unexpected wonder. However, I'm shocked. Shocked!" He pointed at Lena. "Just wait, I'll remember this!"

The woman just sighed and rolled her eyes, smiling slightly against her will. "May this roguish fellow see us out?" she turned to Jane with the question.

"Of course." Jane nodded.

"Thank you, Miss Foster. It was nice to finally meet you." The woman offered a warm smile and took Jane's hand to shake it.

"Nice to meet you, too, um…"

"Julie Greenhill." The woman chuckled. "I'm sorry, it just felt like we've known each other for ages. I completely forgot to introduce myself!"

"That's all right. And please, call me Jane." Jane answered and shook Julie's hand.

"So it's Julie, then." The woman's eyes twinkled as she smiled sincerely. They were grey-green, a bit weary, but warm and sincere.

Julie waited and let Leonard and Lena go ahead. "I can't believe I finally met you." She tilted her head. "We've heard so much about you, did you know?" There was something challenging in Julie's eyes.

"Now, that's…" Jane actually didn't know what to say. Her eyes looked down as she rubbed her head. "That's nice to hear, thank you."

"Mom?" another child's voice caught their attention. It was a boy this time, peeking inside the office from behind the doorframe, grinning widely. "I've talked with the Iron Man!"

Julie smiled as she walked towards her son. Jane followed her out.

"That's nice, sweetheart. And what did he say?" Julie said as she ruffled her son's blonde hair.

"That I'm too good to be Leonard's little brother." The boy chuckled. "And he gave me this!" he chirped enthusiastically as he revealed a cigar in his hand.

"Wha-" Julie's expression switched in a blink of an eye. However, a little child's cry stopped any further words.

"Ah!" Julie whined and touched her temples for a moment, "That's the last thing we've been missing here, right?"

Jane stepped into the corridor, looked up and saw a tall man, around fifty years old, holding a sobbing child. It was a little girl with curly blonde hair; she was considerably younger than her siblings - around three, maybe?

Leonard was standing right beside those two, his expression… concerned. Jane couldn't help a smile at that view. There was something very soft and worried in Leonard's eyes as he held the tiny fingers of the little girl in his.

Lena brought Jane down to earth as she suddenly appeared beside her twin brother, grabbed his arm and wrapped her hand around his neck tightly. "She's crying because she wants a cigar, too." Lena explained, and she and the boy both giggled roguishly.

"Ay, what's that?" Julie snapped at her children and maneuvered them in their father's direction. "Hey, Mr. Greenhill, your children are fighting over a cigar and you aren't going to say anything?"

"Me?" The man raised his bright eyebrows, letting a smirk to his features. "I warned you it'll end up like that."

"Yeah, you did." Julie sighed, resigned.

Jane couldn't think of any suitable words, so she simply chose to watch Leonard's caring expression.

Eventually, the little blonde girl reached out her tiny hands and her father laughed lightly and let the child in Leonard's arms.

The girl wrapped her hands around Leonard's neck and laid her small head on her shoulder. Her sobs quieted as Leonard stroked her back gently and whispered something in her ear. Then he retreated in his office, explaining something eagerly to the child.

"Amazing, isn't he?" Julie admitted quietly as she watched the scene. Jane really didn't even know what to think and remained silent.

"For some reason, they've been very close right from the start." Julie continued, her voice somewhat unfathomable. "Perhaps it's because they both were in a very similar situation, two and a half years ago."

"Similar situation?" Jane asked blankly.

Julie smiled. "Let's say they both felt like perfect strangers to this world."

"I see." Jane answered quietly.

"We couldn't think of a name for her, back then." Julie let out a bittersweet laugh. "We were arguing about it even the day she was born. Could you believe it?" She shrugged to herself. "And then Mike just decided to ask Leonard." She explained further, not waiting for an answer. "I wish you could see him. He took it very seriously."

Julie paused for a moment, as if considering and weighing the next words she intended to say. "He's changed a lot from that time. Especially for the last few months I can see he finally accepted his situation."

"Did he..?" Jane voiced her doubt as she remembered the sad look in his eyes.

"Well, it's obvious he'll never stop thinking about his situation, but it's not haunting him anymore. And what's most important, he stopped peeking over his shoulder, hoping he would catch something from his past. Now he's finally focused on his present and future." Julie looked at her feet. "There's one condition, though. He just shouldn't be alone." She added quietly. After a moment of silence Julie looked up and something cheerful reflected in her eyes as she placed her gaze upon Jane again.

"Good luck, Jane. I hope to see you again soon." She smiled and started to follow her family to the stairs. Then she turned around quickly. "Oh and please, tell Lenny we're waiting at the gateway."

"Okay." Jane smiled. "Have a nice time!" She called out, trying to sound nice, but in her heart she wasn't sure what to think of that all.

She turned and saw Leonard standing in the office doorway. She twisted her stare away.

"Uh… Julie said they're…" Jane pointed in the stairway direction, creasing the end of the sleeve of her cardigan.

"I heard that." Leonard stopped her, his voice soft as ever. "So, it's time to go, isn't it?" he asked the little girl he was holding. "Now, would you say hello to Lady Jane here?"

The girl giggled and buried her face in Leonard's cheek. But he pulled away. "Hey! What's this?" He raised his brows in surprise and turned to Jane. "This little child here is pretending to be shy, however…" he explained, "I advise not to trust this little pixie." He chuckled as he caught the little one's nose between his fingers.

The child let out another cheerful laugh in response. Jane felt a silly smile twirling her lips.

"So, what about the greeting?" Leonard insisted, tucking the soft hair tresses behind the child's ear.

"Hello, Jane." The girl said, tiny finger in her mouth, her blue eyes jovial and eager.

"Hi." Jane managed through her smile. "And would you tell me your name?" she asked and stepped closer.

The little one looked straight into her eyes, then blinked once and shook her head, giggling.

"Aw, come on! _I_ gave you the name, you know? You should be proud of it!" Leonard protested. "Now, what's your name?"

The girl hesitated, looked away and played with Leonard's hair. "Anya." She peeped then.

"That's beautiful." Jane admitted dreamily and sighed. "So many beautiful names today…" she added as she stroked the child's cheek with her finger.

"And would you give Lady Jane a kiss goodbye?" Leonard asked Anya softly.

And apparently, Anya liked kissing people, as this time she did not hesitate to obey. She just reached out, placed one hand on Jane's cheek and kissed the other.

Jane gasped almost audibly. The moment was so short and fleeting, but there was something of a great intensity about it. Suddenly she felt an overwhelming warmth arise from her chest. "Thank you." She uttered quietly.

"And what about me?" Leonard asked, raising his brows. Anya just smiled and placed a peck on his cheek as well.

"Aw, that was sweet. Thank you!" He smiled. "And now we shall say good bye, right?"

"Huh." Anya hummed.

"So?" Leonard waited.

"Good bye, Lady Jane." The girl said.

"Good bye, Anya." Jane uttered as she watched them leave. However, when they reached the stairs, just before they could escape her view, she rushed forward.

"Wait!" she called out. Leonard stood the child on the floor and turned, question in his eyes.

"You can leave for today. I'll take a look at the results." She said, dropping her stare.

"Jane, you don't have to - "

"No, it's ok." She offered a smile. "Just go."

His surprised look and smile was gorgeous. "Thank you." He said finally.

"You're welcome." Jane gave him a sly, sideways glance. "But you're in my debt now."

"I'll be thinking about it." He promised.

* * *

><p><em><strong>To be continued...<strong>_


	9. The Fourth Interlude

_**Important note:** This goes to several individuals. Fisrt, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to the brilliant Black Sabbath guitarist, **Tony Iommi**. Please, don't give up the fight! You're the true Iron Man!_

_And secondly, I dedicate this to all my dear reviewers and readers. You have been all so amazing, supportive and patient so far... Thank you all, guys!_

_**Also:** I don't own anything. Oh, there are several quotes from my beloved series "Red Dwarf" hidden. Extra virtual hugs for everyone who'll find them (it's quite easy - just focus on the text you find funny :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: The Fourth Interlude<strong>

_I'm not guilty but I'm conscious  
>Of that lead weight on my conscience<br>Another thing I have to mention  
>Sadly there's no redemption<em>

_You never gonna drive those demons out of my mind  
>I know you're gone but you're never out of my mind<br>Still see those pictures of hell that sent me out of my mind_

_(WhoCares; Out Of My Mind)_

* * *

><p>Leonard allowed himself a smirk and stopped all movements. Just for a moment. Just so he could listen again to that pleading, clouded voice of Elliot Hunter.<p>

"More please…" she breathed.

But Leonard decided to torture his victim a bit longer and ever so slowly, he just removed the dark hair covering her slender neck. Then he lowered his head and touched the soft skin with his lower lip. "More what?" he whispered, lingering there, waiting for the answer.

"You know very well." She groaned quietly and buried her fingers into his hair.

"No, somehow I just can't remember." He lied and let out a breath just before placing a long kiss on the sensitive spot under her ear.

_I can't remember._ Truth, in fact. Leonard could not remember anything like that. He could not summon any similar memory from his mind, nothing concrete, nothing specific. There were just similar feelings, hints...

Still, he knew precisely what he had to do. He just knew how to make Elliot do anything he wanted. It was a strange feeling, but he decided not to bother with it for the time being. Just as he made himself not to think about how this afternoon had taken a completely different direction so easily. To be exact, when he had watched Elliot silently in the lecture room this morning, thinking about his plan to finally address her, he simply had no idea it would all turn out this way.

And even if he had found that there's no need for such a plan anymore, since Ms. Hunter addressed _him_ instead ("Hey, wait a minute! Someone just said you had discussed the exam with Hudson yesterday..?"), he would never have thought their conversation would turn out this way.

And even if they had walked slowly across the grounds and their talk had stopped concerning Professor Hudson and the exam long ago, he still wouldn't have guessed it would all turn this way. Nevertheless, he could not say he was troubled by that curious turn of events. No, he certainly was not.

Leonard was aware that these feelings were not completely unknown. He experienced them somewhere in the past, multiple times, yes, but the problem was he just could not recall with whom and where.

_But it doesn't matter anymore. Since I'm sure I'll remember _this_. And you will as well,_ he decided in the end, grabbed a fistful of Elliot's smooth hair and made her head tilt back a bit more. It was strange. He was quite sure he hadn't planned this movement. For a moment, he felt as if his body was taking over, as if it was acting on its own, driven by something that had been waiting in the depths, hidden and inconspicuous.

And most likely the feeling was right. Right after Elliot let go off his hair and let her hands crawl down his neck and below, suddenly digging her nails into his skin, he simply could not resist the sudden urge to… Bite. He sucked in a breath – and snapped at her neck.

And Elliot let out a cry, as sharp and loud as her coarse voice allowed.

"Forgive me." He uttered with an oddly sounding rasp and let his lips trace her jawline. He let go off her hair and dropped his hands onto her shoulders, then let them slide further down the smooth skin of her back, until he reached the thin line of soft, yet now rather useless fabric.

Elliot laughed lightly when she felt his searching fingers. "No, not like that." she whispered.

Leonard pressed his forehead against her cheekbone and bit his lip. "Then what about this?" he asked and not waiting for the answer, he moved his hands upwards. His long, slender fingers slid under the straps of her bra and trailed the lines of her shoulder blades on their way up. After reaching the shoulder, he removed the right strap first, slowly, deliberately, and placed his lips instead of it.

"I guess your boyfriend would not like this at all." He breathed, his lips still attached to the silky skin.

"If he knew…" Elliot chuckled silently.

Leonard returned the smile. "But that is rather inevitable."

"Mmm. And what if not?" she giggled again.

"What if not?" Leonard asked roguishly. "I think – that just before the break-up – he would like – to know the reason." he added in between the kisses.

"But I still don't think so." Elliot remarked playfully, but it sounded convincing.

"Why?" Leonard asked, looked into her eyes and removed the other strap as well. "Are you planning to make the end quick and cruel?" He grinned. "Without explanations?" He closed his eyes slowly and touched her little nose with his lips. "Oh, I like it." He whispered wickedly.

"Hey!" Elliot protested with a giggle. "You still don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?" he arched one eyebrow in confusion and pulled away.

"I don't intend to break up with Dan." Elliot stressed out and tilted her head. Then she evaded his stare. "For now." She added. "Anyway, he's away for half a year. So, it's nothing you should bother with." Said Elliot, showed an innocent, sweet smile and bit Leonard's chin in a soft, playful manner.

"Wait. I'm still not getting it at all." Leonard objected, grabbed Elliot by the shoulder and pushed her away.

"Well…" Elliot grinned and twisted one of his hair-strands around her finger. "Look, I'm not the one who chose the fellowship in Europe. And I'm pretty sure Dan most probably does exactly the same things there as we're doing now and here." She shrugged and looked away. "So why should I care? Besides, you're so nice and I feel so good around you… So what? It's good to have a friend with benefits." She laughed finally and pressed herself against him. "And especially someone like you." She purred.

But Leonard just raised a hand and ran the fingers through his tousled hair. A furrow creased his forehead and a bitter smile twisted his lips as he looked at the window, almost like searching for the unknown answers. He snorted. "And how many of those 'special' friends do you have in your reserve?" Leonard asked finally and looked her in the eye.

Elliot retuned the look, but her dark eyes were slowly filling with anger. "What?" she asked in disbelief and narrowed her eyes, tilting her head to the side. "Who do you think I am?" she shouted and raised a hand to slap him. However, she was not given a chance.

Since it took just a swift movement, and Leonard snatched her hand effortlessly.

"Let go!" she hissed menacingly.

"Or what?" Leonard asked, his voice silent but steady, and stepped forward. His breath deepened. Despite he did not wish for it, he tightened the grip around her wrist. He could feel the tiny bones press against his knuckles. He could sense her quickened pulse drum against his fingertips. And it felt so…

Her eyes widened with pain and her eyebrows twisted in a pleading angle. "Release me! It hurts!" Elliot squeaked and tried to yank her arm out of his grasp. Leonard wanted to say something, but instead, merciless, he just twisted the hand he was holding in a painful way and with a single yank he pulled Elliot towards him.

"Let go, please! You're… so cold…" she breathed desperately, just before the fingers of his left hand twirled gracefully around her pale, exposed neck. Under his grasp, she tilted her head back and her eyes gleamed with fear and terror.

"P-please…" she uttered, rasping, and squeezed his wrist, her fingers tightening convulsively.

Leonard's pupils dilated. Suddenly wide-eyed, his glare shot to the ground. "Get out of my sight." He seethed.

And Elliot did not hesitate. Without wasting even a second, she grabbed her top and just pressing it against her chest, she staggered as fast as she could out of the room. Just a few jagged breaths could be heard from the hall as she gathered her shoes and bag. "You're insane!" she cried and slammed the door shut.

The whole apartment resonated with the sound. As did Leonard's mind with her last words. Fury and rage were flowing through his veins, shaking him, burning him inside. He felt he had to do something. He had to do something _now_. He clenched his fists and tried to gain control over the frenzied urge to run outside, catch her and… _And what? What then?_

Terrified by his own thoughts, Leonard covered his face with his palms. A low growl made its way through his vocal chords. _Hang in there…_ He tried to persuade himself. _Just a little longer… _

In the end, he just held his breath, pulled the palms away from his face and slowly and carefully, he let his hands hang along his lean body. _It's gone_. He breathed finally. A small cloud of mist escaped his mouth. _What?_ He kind of woke up and frowned. Once again – breathe in, breathe out. Nothing. _What was that?_

Leonard dropped to the ground and rested his elbows on the huge double bed. His breathing was heavy and fast, like he just finished a long run. He closed his eyes, let his forehead lean against the bed surface and covered his head with his hands.

_I can't let it happen ever again._ He thought. He realized his mouth was wet, so he raised his head slightly and wiped the saliva away with his wrist. _I'll have to take a shower._ He told himself.

_Or… that can wait for a while._ He decided eventually.

And in his thoughts, he went through the latest events again and again. He tried to account for his actions, rationalize his behavior. Because it frightened him. He was terrified of how quickly he had lost it.

But in the end, everything started to subside and fade away. And as his breath slowed down and calmed, he turned his head to the side and relaxed. _Perhaps I just shouldn't think about it. Just let it go._ He told himself and tried to think about something different.

And as many times before, he chose to run. To steal away silently and hide from his own mind.

Sure, there were moments when he was ready to give everything for just a glimpse of a real memory; he would give anything just to be able to learn something tangible about himself. However, there were also days when his worst fear was nothing else than his past – he felt something creeping and crawling at him like a dark shadow, he sensed people turning around and watching… And at those moments he felt trepidation and fear. And at those days, he hoped that the memories had been lost forever, because he was terrified by the truth they might conceal.

He jerked suddenly. While trying to summon some known images of his present life he stumbled upon something unexpected, but of a great value to him. Although he still did not know if it was just a snapshot from a dream, or a true memory. The face of a woman with brown eyes and chestnut-colored hair.

He did not care how many times his friends and family had told him not to think about her, explaining to him that most likely she's not real at all. No. She _was_ real. At least for him. And he was certain he would not give up on her. He wanted to learn how to summon her delicate, beautiful face at any time so he would not miss the chance to recognize her, if there was an opportunity. Because he hoped to meet her someday. And clinging onto that hope was one of the things that kept him alive and sane through every day.

Yes, he wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe that beyond all the fear there was something normal his past was hiding from him. Something nice and warm. Just this single, tiny remnant.

And now… Leonard inhaled sharply and resisted the urge to flutter his eyes open in surprise.

He could see her. So clearly as never before. And not just her face, he could see her entire figure. She was... short. Tiny. And beside her, there was another woman standing, with long, wavy dark hair. And a middle-aged man, his hair short and bright. All of them were looking up, their stares terrified. After a while, Leonard got a strange impression that they were looking at him. _But…_ _Me? Why would they look at me?_

However, Leonard could not think of any reasonable answer to this question. And despite of it, or maybe just because of it, he started to feel guilty. What if he truly had been the cause of her fear? What if he had hurt her in the end? That was just insane... She was so beautiful. He did not even know her and yet, he cared for her. And yet... he desired. And he could not resist; and he had just learned where his relentless desires had led him. What he had just done. What he could have done...

The feeling grew suddenly stronger, maybe also because of the clarity of the whole image. He could never see the scene as clearly as he could now. However, there was no one to whom he could possibly apologize for whatever he had done in the past, nor for the things that happened in his apartment just moments ago. So he just chose to focus.

He decided to concentrate on every detail of her face, eyes and hair, her figure and appearance. He tried to memorize and absorb it all in one piece. No, her hair was a brighter shade than he thought at first, more like caramel. And the front tresses were even brighter, almost blonde. And even though her features showed fear and worry, she was still beautiful.

_The most endearing being in the known universe. I've got you now._ Leonard smiled eventually. _You can't be just an image from a dream. You are real._ Slowly, he dared open his eyes and look around the room. _And now I know exactly what you look like. And one day I'll find you, no matter what. I know for sure._

Fully relaxed and comforted, Leonard let out a breath and closed his eyes again. He was just about to let that tiny bit of new hope settle in his heart when something absolutely terrible struck him unprepared.

_Do you like her?_ The well-known, sharp and cold voice pierced his being and ripped his soul in shreds in just one terrifying second.

Leonard froze, unable neither to move nor to do anything at all. _No, not now, please!_ He clenched his palms in fists and closed his eyes firmly.

He felt completely shocked and taken aback. He was not prepared. But even if he could have sensed it coming, one can never be prepared for such a confrontation. Leonard almost stopped thinking about that unknown alien in his head recently. He was almost certain that the nightmare was over. However, clearly, it was not. And so his cruel, virtual companion, his alter ego, was back.

_There, there. Don't tell me you have already forgotten._ The voice mocked him, harboring biting sarcasm and cruelty.

"Go away!" Leonard shrieked, refusing to believe the situation real.

_Go away? But why? _The voice faked a hurt concern. _We've just reunited, my friend! After such a long time… I thought I would earn much warmer welcome!_

"Never!" Leonard shouted again, and then seethed in a wild rage. "What do you want from me?" He added more quietly and looked over his shoulder, despite knowing he was not going to see anyone there. He held his breath.

_Hm. So, are we going to have a talk in the end? _The cold voice sliced through the silence._ Very well. You want to know what I want? _Pause. _The girl._

"Wh-which one?" Leonard rasped and leaned his forehead on the bed, entwining his hands at his scruff.

_The one I've just let you see._

"Let?" Leonard asked in a weak, desperate whisper.

_Of course I let you!_ The voice laughed in reply. _What have you been thinking? That I'm not aware about her image in your mind?_ Another chuckle. _You know… I let you think about her. I wanted you to desire to find her. And the reason is pretty simple. It's because I AM the one who wants to find her in the first place!_

"What? Why? Do you know her?" Leonard's heartbeat skyrocketed. "Do I know her?"

_Silence!_ The voice spat cruelly. _You were given an opportunity. And how did you show your gratitude? Instead of searching for her you're merely fooling around with random sluts! _

"What?" Leonard gasped.

_Oh, what? _The voice mimicked Leonard's desperation._ I see. Any attempts for having a reasonable talk with you today are rather ridiculous, aren't they? Huh… _it puffed dramatically._ Please forgive, but I am forced to punish you. I have to take the girl back and take care of the task myself. I can't rely on you anymore._

Leonard tried not to let those words in his mind, he tried to ignore them. He could still see her so vividly. "You can't!" he uttered in an attempt to resist.

_Well, actually… I can._ The other one whispered almost softly, the poison unmistakably dripping behind those subtle words. _It may hurt a bit._ He added in a mere whisper.

Leonard struggled to stay focused and fix the image firmly into the patterns of his mind, but it was useless. A pitch-black smudge ran across the picture of the beautiful, delicate face of the unknown woman. And a sharp, splitting ache made its way through his head, as if his skull was stabbed with a long, cold knife.

Leonard heard his own voice screaming and echoing through the room. But everything sounded so distant and pointless. The only real thing was the pain. Terrible pain that engulfed and crossed his whole being. He intertwined and clutched his fingers convulsively, and that was all he could do.

Another black smudge, another merciless wave of pain.

Leonard clenched his teeth as his body arched and twisted painfully. _This is unbearable… I can't take it any longer._ He thought. _It's impossible. Just impossible. Someone, please… Please! _He begged even though he knew the only one listening would merely laugh at him.

And the sharp, piercing laughter came in reply. Leonard felt a strange taste on his tongue. _Please! Please stop this… I can't…_

Another smudge and the memory was gone.

_I can't take it anymore! Please…_

_Oh, what's going on?_ The voice asked. _Are you mad at me? Aw, you're not, are you?_ It sighed. _You know what; I have something to tell you. You'll find her. You'll find that woman for me. However, you won't recognize her. How sad… But I will. And do you know what will happen then?_

"No!" Leonard shrieked. His fingers swirled around each other spasmodically like clinching snakes.

_You know it, right?_ A venomous purr sounded. _You know what's going to happen. Because you know me. I have just shown you, with the other woman. Do you remember? _

Leonard just froze in sheer terror. The cruel voice was not just within his head anymore. He could hear it coming from the outside. He could hear it right beside him, it was whispering in his ear. He turned his head to the other side to avoid it, quickly, stubbornly.

And he burst in tears when he heard the cold sound of the voice coming from that side as well. _Just what are you trying to achieve right now?_ It laughed in a very biting manner. _You can't just run away from me. You can't escape yourself, can you? Yes, I've taken her from you. But no need to be so sad. Look – I have something far more interesting here…_

Leonard turned his head to the other side again.

_Look at me! There's no point in avoiding me!_ The voice insisted.

The wet cheek pressed against the blanket as Leonard's head turned again. „Please..." he sobbed silently.

_Stop that! Who do you want to affect with this whining?_ The voice shouted. _Just look at you! Stop avoiding yourself!_

"No!" Leonard cried once again, his voice rasping. He was forced to open his eyes eventually, since he sensed a strange tickling on the skin of his hands. He straightened and rubbed away the tears using his wrist. The skin of his hand felt different. Rough.

Confused, he turned and leaned back against the bed. He bent his knees and dragged them close to his body as he looked at his pale, cold hands.

And at first, the limbs looked quite normal; nothing indicated that there was something wrong. However, as the tickling sensation returned, he could see a blue shadow building up from the fingertips and progressing slowly down the long fingers to the palms and wrists. The nail beds blackened, bulged and protruded. The skin got a strange pattern of curved lines, almost as though someone had scratched a secret sign there.

"What's this?" Wide-eyed and desperate, Leonard gasped as he watched the blue color darken gradually. His hands were trembling with the change. Filled with terror and disgust, Leonard let out a silent yelp. A thin stream of saliva ran down his chin and a small bubble formed in the corner of his mouth. His eyes were not able to shed tears anymore. They just wouldn't. Instead, a terrifying, inhuman shriek escaped his throat.

_See? _The voice laughed coldly._ This is me. This is you! _

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

Heimdall felt rather uneasy. This was the second time he blinked. Second time this week. _How come? Is there something wrong with me? Or am I just growing old?_ He sighed barely audibly and focused fully on his task again.

Some time ago, he used to be the Gatekeeper of the Nine Realms. And he used to guard the Bifrost, a mighty tool once able to link the worlds together or even destroy them.

He had had lots of visitors at that time. Travelers. Harbingers. Sorcerers and their apprentices studying the wondrous work of their ancestors. His king. His king's sons. The Warriors Three and all the mighty heroes and shining armies of the Realm Eternal.

But everything changed. It was different now. One direction or another, they were all gone. The travellers were all hidden, minding their own lives as there was nowhere to go to, nothing to see and discover ever again. And so there was calm. Peace and silence. And he was left alone. A lonesome Guardian standing tireless at the ledge of a shattered Bridge that led into the darkness of the vast space, just above the thundering waters falling into nothingness.

Yet, he had something he chose to call a company in fact. They were all those weird beings he had been told to watch every day and every night. They did not know they were observed; their realm was too far away for them to feel it. They could just suspect. However, from what Heimdall have seen so far, Jotunheim had a lot of their own business and did not need to waste time and energy on anything else than the fierce battles of the throne.

Since the death of King Laufey, the same scenes could be observed every day. Images of snow blizzards and unmerciful wars during which the Jotuns were able to build and shatter again the whole ice fortresses within mere moments. The cruel pictures from the battlefields, when the Jotuns sliced each other in pieces using the ice blades with almost a surgeon's precision. The scenes when the opponent's skin was pierced with black claws and flesh lacerated and torn apart. And following this nation's nature, most of those things were done in silence. No words, no cries. Since no one dared to show his fear or pain first.

And so Heimdall watched them and their silent wars. Quiet, peaceful and alone. He was waiting patiently for any conclusion of this terrifying show and absorbed everything carefully into his memory, so he would be able to tell his king about what he had seen when the right time comes.

And today was no different. Jotunheim was still at war, the battles raging on, as fierce and desperate as ever.

Nevertheless, there suddenly was something that caught Heimdall's attention stronger than usual.

It was… a desperate cry of one of the Jotuns. Well, that fact alone wouldn't be so strange. Surprising was the direction from which the sound came. _How..?_ Heimdall felt stunned and terrified for a moment. Terrified that he might have missed something important. Again. _How is that even possible?_

_I'll have to look there. Despite my task…_ He let out a trembling breath. _I was told to observe the Jotuns, after all, wasn't I?_ He decided finally and turned his golden gaze to Midgard, to the realm of the mortals.

He let the weeping voice lead his sight straight to the right place… almost there… and then Heimdall, the one who had seen too many things in his long life to be surprised or startled by anything, felt astounded. He had almost forgotten how it feels like. And now…

He watched the mysterious being that caused this big surprise. It was a tall, lean man with long, dark hair. He was lying on the floor by the bed, shirtless and curled up. At the first sight he looked just like any other mortal. But the blue hands with black claws could not escape Heimdall's notice. The hands of a Frost Giant.

And then, when the Guardian looked at the man's face, there was no mistake in his presentiment. Heimdall swallowed as he was forced to blink once again – for the third time this week! – because it was clear as a shining star who that strange man was. It was someone whose face he remembered too well. Someone who could deceive even the watchful golden eyes. Someone who was considered lost forever.

But there he was. Just lying there, shivering violently, all alone in the world he had always despised.

Prince Loki.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

Leonard heard the key clicking in the door lock. Someone entered the hall.

"Leonard, sweetie, I'm home!" the known voice bubbled merrily. "Any thought on whom I've nearly bumped into down on the street?" the comer went on, not waiting for the answer. This statement sounded a bit muffled, as though the man who spoke it was eating something. The noise of the closing door followed.

"Elliot." The man mumbled. "Something's telling me she was here." The man chuckled after that. "To be honest, she didn't look much satisfied, though. Mhm…" a short pause for swallowing, "Can you please explain to me what happened?" The voice came nearer. "Leonard? Are you here?"

The addressed wanted to answer at first, but he rather bit his lip instead. Leonard was too afraid that the words he would attempt to say might sound exactly the same as all the weird noises he had been making until now.

"Leonard?" the other man called again and entered the room. Leonard heard the nearing, heavy footsteps.

_Looks like he forgot to take the shoes off._ Leonard mused blankly._ Quite obviously_. He realized when a pair of black Martens stepped into his quite interesting view of the chair legs.

"Lenny?" Bret asked, his voice suddenly shifting into worried. "What are you… What happened?" He continued as he got down on his knees. "Lenny? Will you speak to me?" he said softly and brushed the dark hair away from Leonard's forehead and tried to lift him up to prop his shaking body against the bed.

"Don't look at me." Leonard rasped and yanked his arms out of Bret's hold, avoiding his eyes.

"Why? What's going on?" Bret insisted and took Leonard by the shoulders.

"I... Something's wrong with my hands." Leonard whined desperately.

"What?"

"Something... Something is happening with them."

"But I'm asking – what?" Bret asked quite impatiently and took Leonard's hands in his. "They look quite normal. Just... a bit scratched. And as cold as ever." He said finally.

But Leonard sensed something very close to uncertainty in his friend's voice. "Are you sure?" he breathed out a question.

"Quite sure." Bret assured promptly and as if trying to prove his statement, he opened his clasped palms and revealed Leonard's own shaking hands to the daylight. And they looked... perfectly normal. The skin assumed back the pale shade, the nail beds returned to their original positions, the black color vanished. The only thing that was extra were the numerous scratches, some of them running deep enough for the blood beads to appear on the surface. Watching this, Leonard remembered the moments of mad desperation, when he had been struggling furiously to remove the blue imprints from his skin.

Leonard snorted in disbelief, or even disdain. _Did that happen at all? Was it real or did everything just come from my thoughts?_

"There's something wrong with me." Leonard uttered and kept on staring at his pale hands, surrounded again by the warm fingers of his blonde colleague.

"And what's supposed to be wrong?" Bret asked, almost whispering.

"I felt... I've seen my hands turning blue. Completely. I mean..." Leonard's voice sounded very distant, his expression was blank and empty. "There were claws. I had a set of black claws." He chuckled, the sound as empty as his look. "But have I really seen it? I believed it. I... I'm going insane, Bret. I must be." Leonard breathed and looked to the ground. "I must be crazy."

"No, you're not..."

Leonard's gaze shot up. "What?" He snapped in reply, making Bret shudder. "What am I then, Bret? A monster that happened to escape someone's lab a year ago? Or... Or a psychopath who can't control himself and is haunted by his insane imagination?" His voice got stronger, more pressing. "And which is worse? Tell me!" He shouted in the end and bore his gaze into the deep blue eyes in front of him that were observing him with fright and worry. He sank into them as though he could find the answers to all the world's most intriguing questions there. "Tell me, please." He added more silently and felt his throat constrict.

The blue orbs got covered by the heavy eyelids and turned to the ground.

"Look," Bret began after a while, his voice quiet and strangely steady. "I can't tell you where you came from. I doubt I will ever learn the truth myself. But I just don't care, do you hear me?" he stressed out and looked back at Leonard. "I don't know who you used to be. But I know who you are _now_." His voice slipped into an urgent whisper, eyes narrowed. "You're my friend. The best I could have ever found. Look at me, Lenny!" he commanded at cradled Leonard's pale cheeks in his hands. "I know for certain that you are not insane. Well... maybe a little. But who isn't? Everyone has their own personal demons – just look at me. You're just a bit different, that's all. So what? I don't care."

And Leonard felt very confused at that statement. It was so familiar; he heard those words somewhere before...

He could see the same, deep blue eyes, bright hair... just much softer and smaller... younger. They had belonged to a child, he realized. They had belonged to a little boy who had been watching him as intently as Bret did now. And moreover, Leonard realized that he had been a child as well at that time. His tiny, skinny hands had been resting in the hands of the other boy. "_You are just a bit different." The blue-eyed boy insisted. "But you know, I don't care. I'll always be with you and protect you!"_

"Promise?" Leonard asked eagerly, his eyes still veiled in the vision.

"What?" Bret just tilted his head in a slight confusion. The memory dissipated.

Leonard blinked. "Doesn't matter." He said and looked away.

"What do you want me to promise you?" Bret asked, intrigued, and drew closer. "C'mon, tell me." He said and his long, golden hair edged forward strand by strand and brushed over Leonard's arms.

"I said it was nothing!" Leonard jerked back. "Go away." He murmured under a hint of a smile.

"You're laughing." Bret noted and grinned.

"It's just your stupid hair. It tickles. Go away!" the dark-haired man frowned.

"You're laughing. I've seen it, so don't try to deny it." The blonde insisted, got heavily on his feet, walked away and returned in no time with a thin roll of toilet paper.

"What do you think you're doing?" Leonard frowned even more as he observed his companion.

"Nothing bad." Bret just shrugged in reply. "Uh, it also seems we're out of hankies again. Sorry." He explained evasively, tore off a piece of paper, got down and started wiping Leonard's eyes and cheeks. "Tell me now, what kind of life would you lead without me?" he sighed, grinned again, and removed all the wet hair tresses from the pale forehead. Then he brushed the paper over Leonard's nose and hesitated.

Leonard looked up at his blonde friend and found a mysterious twinkle in the blue eyes. "Bret..?" He asked at last, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, um… Would you... blow your nose?" the blonde offered, lifting his bright brows up, the supressed laughter threatening to burst out.

At first, Leonard tilted his head and just watched his friend askance. But then something in his eyes melted. „Give it to me!" he spat in the end, failing to hide his own chuckles.

"There, this is much better." Bret sighed, somewhat relieved, and sat down beside his friend. "So, what now?" he murmured after a silent moment.

"Dunno." Leonard mumbled back.

The tall blonde scratched at his temple. "I think I need to hear something really worthy. What's in the stereo, you remember?"

"Exactly the same thing that we have listened to last night."

"Ah." Said Bret and tilted his head back, resting it against the bed. "Thanks, I wouldn't have guessed. The question is – what we've been listening to?"

Leonard just bowed his head silently and looked at his hands once again. The scratches appeared brighter. "Shiro put there some classical music, but then he exchanged it for something else. I don't know."

"Mr. Wednesday doesn't know? Impossible." the blonde pointed out in a mocking tone and turned a little to check on Leonard's reaction.

"Piss off."

"I'm currently not able to, sorry." Said Bret, faking an apologetic tone and clacked his shoes together.

"Then maybe you could take your shoes off at least." Leonard reminded, sighing.

"Or maybe I can play something myself…" Bret thought aloud, leaving the remark about his shoes unnoticed.

"Or maybe you could take the _shoes_ off." Leonard sounded again, not giving up.

"What? Did someone said something?" Bret turned and looked around the room.

Leonard suddenly leaned in and shouted straight into his friend's ear. "Shoes, Bret, take off the…"

"Ah, my shoes! They're still on, right?" asked the blonde, showing a great talent for acting surprised. "Well, do you want to take that risk? I must warn you my feet got quite sweaty today."

"Of course not here!" the lean man was seemingly appalled at the thought. "You go in the hall, take the stupid boots off, put them into the wardrobe and then you wash your feet."

"Nah. Sorry, too many requests at once." Bret answered lazily and got up. "Gonna play for a while, if you'd excuse."

"Bret… How many times I promised you I'd kill you?"

"Don't know. I can't pay attention to all the shit you keep repeating." Bret just sighed in a bored manner and approached the stand with his guitar.

Leonard cleared his throat, turned his side to the bed and leaned his elbow against it. "You touch that guitar and I'll remove the E string and garrote you with it." He proclaimed sweetly.

At that, Bret stopped and peeked over his shoulder. Silence. "Can I do anything?" he spat after a moment and turned around completely. "Is it ok if I breathe?" he asked, chuckling. "Can I breathe?"

"You should do some serious learning, Bret." Leonard answered, slightly amused, rubbing his weary face.

"That's none of your business." the blonde simply waved him off.

"Oh isn't it?" Leonard raised his eyebrows, got up and sat on the huge double-bed. "Very well. Just – would you please explain to me as to how exactly are you planning to pass that exam tomorrow? You'll need it to get the credit."

Bret shrugged at that. "Somehow… I don't care."

"What kind of talk is that?"

"And who do you think you are? My mother?" Bret retorted, looking disgruntled. "I said I don't care, as I don't give a damn to the stupid credit." He explained and fell into the chair in front of the bed.

"What?"

"What – what?" Bret frowned, looking annoyed. "You've known all the time that I intend to return to Berklee, don't even try to look surprised!" He added as he leaned against the small table, supporting his chin with his hand, looking elsewhere.

"Oh. So it appears you really mean it." Mumbled Leonard and folded his long legs under him.

"Of course I do." Bret confirmed his friend's thoughts and kept on viewing his thumb while digging a line onto the desk surface.

"All right. So, can I forget about what you've said just a moment ago?" Leonard wondered, looking down.

"What are you talking about?" Bret's eyebrows furrowed.

"Hm. Someone just claimed me to be their best friend, nothing of a great importance." Leonard sneered, hiding the disappointment.

"But you are, I'm not changing my mind." Bret turned his surprised look to the dark-haired, sitting man on the bed.

"Well, if you leave it'll never be the same. Like it or not." The latter uttered silently.

"What are you driveling about?" Bret blurted, jumping up from the chair. „Nothing is going to change!" He declared firmly, jabbing a forefinger in Leonard's direction. "At least not for me. Look, it's not like I'm _actually_ going to leave, is it? I'm just going to do something else than _you_ do for a change... Is there really any problem about it?"

Leonard let out a disillusioned laugh. "No, of course it's not." He said coldly.

"What?" The blonde inclined his head, frowning and full of doubt. "Hey, what's going on here?"

"What's going on?" Leonard finally looked up, his gaze accusing. "Nothing!" He spat sullenly. "But have you ever considered the option that you actually haven't just lost a year on MIT? You're quite smart and skilled, Bret. And if you cared a bit more, you would belong to the top of our class. That's going on, just that, nothing more."

"Yeah, sure…" Bret laughed bitterly and ambled towards the fridge.

"I'm serious, Bret. You could finish the studies quite easily. You can do that and you know it." Leonard insisted and turned so his eyes could follow his roommate.

"Aw, isn't it just awesome? But I tell you something. I'm not interested." Bret paused and tapped his fingertips at the fridge door.

"Stop that nonsense!" Leonard scowled at his friend angrily. "What do you think looks better in a CV, MIT or Berklee?"

"Do I really have to answer that?" Bret raised one bright eyebrow, and not even checking on the contents of the fridge, he just walked to the big double-bed and sat down, his back towards Leonard.

"Bret, we're having a conversation." The latter reminded.

"Oh yeah? And what else do you want from me? I don't know what's better... I guess it just depends on what kind of job you want..." Bret waved his hands around him in something close to helplessness. "But first of all – I'm definitely not going to spend my life sitting and getting fat in some dull office or lab. I just want to make music, travel the world, meet people, see something worthy, live…"

Silence.

"I know." Leonard breathed after a long moment. "I just… I'm just sorry you're wasting your talent."

"Ah!" Bret woke up and darted an angry and confused look at his friend. "But when _I_ am telling you not to waste your talent, it just doesn't count, does it?"

"This is something different." Leonard objected, sounding annoyed.

"No, Leonard, it is not. Definitely not for me!"

"Fine! So, is there something, anything I could have done and didn't?"

"You're asking _me_?" Bret all but cried out. "So I tell you what - How many times you said that we ought to repeat that little show in the pub? And how many times you promised me you would write that lyrics for me? And what happened?" he snorted finally.

"All right, sorry. But you still seem to be missing a point. I have more than three times fuller schedule than you, my friend." Leonard pointed out. "I'm sure you would agree that one has to spend some time with the textbooks in such a case."

"Just don't give me that shit, Leonard!" Bret burst out. "And please be so kind and stop bragging about having to learn. How many times you were fooling around with Midget instead?"

"We're lucky he's not here…" Leonard chuckled quietly.

"Yeah? I don't give a damn." The blonde in rage spat angrily and turned away.

"Whoa, Bret! What do I hear?" Leonard let out a sudden giggle and straightened his back. "I think I may know now what's going on with you." He went on and sneaked closer. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

"What?" Bret glared at his roommate in a very menacing manner. "Don't even try to foist this nonsense on me! I'm not the one who started it."

"Oh, come on, Bret. You. Are. Jealous. Admit it." Leonard grinned, seemingly amused with the thought.

"Piss off."

"We apologize but the service you have requested is currently unavailable." Leonard stated in a poised and maybe a bit mocking fashion and looked down at his intertwined fingers.

"So just do me the favor and shut up. Sometimes you babble too much." Bret mumbled in response and midlessly, he began to rub the tiny and dried crumbs away from the blanket.

"Well, I guess it's just the way I am…" Leonard sighed eventually and helped Bret with his momentary interest in keeping their sheets crumb-free. "But still, I think…" he said quietly after a minute of indifferent silence, giving his bright-haired companion a tentative, sideways glance.

"What is it?" Bret murmured, his tone slightly more interested than he intended.

And Leonard smiled softly. _Got you, Bret_.

"Mmh... Nothing particular. Just a mere idea." Leonard stated lazily and waved his hand as if chasing the thought away, but at the same time he looked up to observe Bret's reaction.

"Hey. Just feel free to tell me." Bret urged his friend to continue and seated himself closer as well. "Every time you pretend to have nothing particular in mind, it turns out to be something pretty interesting. So?"

"Well…" Leonard began carefully, cradling his chin in the palm and propping the elbow on his bent knee. "I think you're quite good anyway." He spoke, observing the jumping crumbs. "Besides, you have always claimed you like playing other musician's stuff, but you love to add something of your personality to that." Leonard paused to look curiously at his friend. "So your style can be easily recognized. And... I think it actually is really... distinguished."

"Distinguished?" Bret smiled cautiously, adding a soft snort. "Wait… You want to delude me into thinking that I don't need to go back to Berklee, don't you?" He asked then, raising his eyebrows. "Well, I'm sorry, but that was quite poor. Don't you feel slightly out of shape today?"

"All right. Whatever." Leonard admitted and dropped his eyes, appearing disappointed. "I just don't want us to... to drift apart, that's all."

"Hm." Bret stopped in thought, then continued pulling and rubbing at the blanket. "The question is – what do we do?"

Leonard chose to run his pale fingers through the black hair and tugged the long tresses behind his ear. "Then what about… what if I stopped wasting _my_ talent?" he offered and laid his gaze upon Bret.

"Well," Bret began after a thoughtful moment, "that certainly… Wouldn't be that bad."

"That bad?" Leonard repeated, raising his dark eyebrows.

"Yeah. I think that in fact, it'd be…" Bret stopped for a moment, "It would be great. No. More like… Awesome. Amazing – just…" he uttered finally and looked up, wearing a vigilant smile. "What do you think?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Bret. If we assume that I offered it… Yes, I guess." Leonard shrugged.

"Really?"

"I. said. Yes."

Bret just shook his head and leaned his face against his palm. He fell silent for a while. "Fine." He blurted out suddenly, stood up and went to the hall. Leonard was watching that silently, waiting patiently for the outcome. Some noises coming from the small hall could be heard in the meantime. Then a long moment of silence followed, after which Bret reappeared in the door, holding a paper in his hands. For some reason he wore a kind of tragic, but defiant expression.

"Bret?"

The addressed just sauntered towards the bed and ever so slowly, almost solemnly, raised the hand that held the paper and unfolded it carefully. He read through the text for a while himself before turning the document to Leonard. The latter shifted in his position to get nearer and viewed the text. He recognized the header of Berklee College of Music. A paragraph of thick text followed. Then huge, bold letters that said: _Accept_. Another two paragraphs with necessary details, a stamp and two signatures. However, Leonard was not given the chance to read any further, because the page suddenly started to rip apart. Bret's long fingers aligned the resulting two pieces of paper together and ripped them as well. And again. And once more.

"Bret, what are you..?" Leonard mumbled and observed his colleague, stunned. "I didn't know you had done the exams already. Why didn't you tell us anything?"

"Not sure." Bret just shrugged at first. "Guess I didn't want to speak too soon." He continued then. "I didn't want to give anything away before I knew the outcome. So I could avoid all the stupid questions… And then we might have celebrated a bit…" he said in a quiet voice, let out a nervous chuckle and moved a tress of hair from his creased forehead. He kept on watching the ripped pieces of paper in his hand. "Before I came home I had been to the post office." He indicated simply.

"Wait. Are you telling me that… You mean you've just learned the result yourself? Today?" Leonard got up and straightened as he eyed his friend with a sheer disbelief and amazement.

"Yeah." Bret muttered under his breath and shrugged. "But it doesn't matter now, does it?" he added somewhat huskily while his eyes lowered and fixated on the floor.

Leonard stood up from the bed and just watched his friend for a while. The latter bowed his head so the golden hair was partly hiding his face. But just before that happened, Leonard had caught a glimpse of something tiny and gleaming that appeared temporarily on Bret's cheek and then trailed off in the bright-colored beard.

"Bret." Leonard began quietly. "You. Are. An idiot. You're a total…" he paused and flailed his arms, "A word has yet to be invented to describe…"

"…how totally whatever-it-is I am, but I am one." Bret grinned and filled in the commentary he'd just cut in. He raised his head and his gleaming eyes smiled.

"Bret, I…" Leonard murmured, "I value this gesture very much. However, tearing a paper apart doesn't really change anything. You would need to send a letter with the official refusal."

"Leonard - " Bret sighed.

"And that's not what I want." Leonard answered, looking straight into Bret's eyes. "I shouldn't have said all that. It's your life and I don't want to interfere."

"I think you're right." Bret replied after a while. Leonard gave him just a quiet and somewhat worried glance.

"I'm going to write that letter right now." Bret declared resolutely and pushed his friend aside. "Where's your laptop?"

"Bret, stop it! Don't do that just because of me!"

"Be quiet!" spat the blonde, turning around and pointing a finger at Leonard. "I'm doing this for my own sake. As long as you truly mean your words..?"

"Well… I still do." Leonard confirmed quietly.

"Then I truly do that just for my own good." Bret said finally and kept on pacing wildly through the room. His golden hair waved behind him and fell into his face every time he turned around. It made Leonard think about a nervous lion trapped in a cage.

"Take the Shiro's." Leonard advised eventually and put on a mysterious smile.

"Hey. It's Midget's laptop we're talking about." Bret stopped, hesitant. "Who knows what we may find there. Plus, he's got a password."

"Hm. First – why are we calling him that?" Leonard frowned. "He's quite tall… for a Japanese."

"Yeah? According to me, everyone who's able to get some sleep on _this_ couch is a midget." Bret explained and gestured at said piece of furniture.

"Well, maybe we should take him to us sometimes." Leonard smirked, sat back down on the double-bed and propped his arms against it.

Bret looked his companion up and down with angry eyes. "Could you please stop saying those things?"

Leonard bit his lip to stop the smile. "Sorry. Yeah, and… that password is ‚Miko 98754'."

Bret turned at his friend in surprise. "You know his password? How long?"

"He changes it regularly… You just need to watch. Besides, it is not hard to guess." Leonard sighed lengthily, took off his pants and tossed them at the bed. Then he walked to the fridge and opened it. "How come you never forget about the beer?" he asked, not turning around to look at his companion.

"What?"

"There's just beer, nothing else."

"And what am _I_ supposed to do with that? Who knows, maybe you and the Midget eat too much and drink too little…" Bret wondered aloud while turning the laptop on. "Take one for me, please." He called over his shoulder, but just to register that the request had been fulfilled already. "Thanks." He smirked, took the offered bottle and sipped the foam.

"You're welcome." Leonard bubbled contentedly and sat on the bed, close to Bret.

"What the hell is that?" the latter shouted suddenly.

"You see, Bret, this is called Japanese." Leonard explained, amused.

"Yes, I can see." Bret spat back. „But everything is… upside down…"

"No it's not." Leonard answered calmly and observed all of his friend's futile struggle to communicate with the device. Then he sipped at his beer and paused in thought. _Should anything terrifying come in my way I can always make myself forget about it, even if just for a while. Every time I'm not alone. And particularly when I can tease you, dear Bret._ In the end, he jumped to his feet, approached his friend and stood his bottle beside the laptop. "Let me have a look."

"Oh, Mr. Super-clever got a feeling that I'm not capable of writing a simple letter?" Bret fumed and stood up.

"You are, but not here." Leonard explained innocently and sat into the chair instead of the blonde.

"Well, then may I ask as to why did you advise me that in the first place?" the latter spat angrily.

"Please don't take it wrong, but there's nothing more amusing in the world than you fussing about something." Leonard added, smiling toothily. "Go on, you can borrow mine."

"And what do you think I'm doing?" Bret retorted and sat down on the other side of the huge bed with another laptop in his lap. "And what about this one, should I fear some unknown interface, too?" He asked as he leaned against the headboard.

"No, Bret, you really don't have to fear anything." Leonard reassured his friend and took another sip. "Speaking of laptops, maybe you should reconsider the option of buying a new one."

"And you should maybe reconsider minding your own business." Bret uttered as if he wasn't really there. "Wait… then what do you want with the Midget's computer?" He asked, sounding suspicious, after removing his shoes carefully.

"You haven't taken the shoes off, have you?" Leonard mumbled, the bottle still in his mouth.

"Too late. So, what do you want there?"

"Nothing. Just a… regular maintenance, right?" Leonard gave a vague explanation and fixated his look on the screen.

"Ya know, the Midget will get furious."

"Yes, I'm taking that into account." Leonard murmured absently as his fingers spread and ran across the keyboard.

"He won't talk to you for at least half a year." Bret warned and grinned.

"To me?" Leonard turned in the chair to peek over his shoulder. "I will officially deny everything and put all the blame on you, of course."

"Thanks, you're a real friend."

"I know." The dark-haired man smiled smugly and continued his work of destruction.

Again, Leonard simply could not help it. He just could not resist that temptation inside his mind. However, this was most probably one of the ways helping him cope with his personal demons. He bit his lower lip when realizing what he was about to do. But no matter how hard he tried, the itch somewhere above his conscience would always win and make him do anything just to forget his loneliness, to overcome the haunting, unknown past, and least but not last, to fight off the boredom as well.

It's been always the same. Every time he got an idea as to how to tease, provoke or trick someone; how to stir the still waters and cause some good mischief, then no matter what, he would obey his restless mind and set the roguish thoughts in motion. He could not explain that to himself. He was unable to answer the question why it felt so fascinating. And at the same time, he could not say no. Every time such thoughts popped up in his head, he just _had_ to make it happen. And he was not sure which feeling was more exciting. Was it the realization that he was doing something forbidden? Or was it the thrill and anticipation before he got caught? (And yes, he was doing all that specifically for this reason.) Or was it the joy and amusement he felt while watching his victim's reactions? No, he truly was not certain which particular force was driving him. Perhaps a combination of everything he could name. However, one thing he knew for sure. He forgot about Bret and his unfulfilled dreams, their little argument and misunderstanding, the fearful confrontation with the mysterious voice, the utter failure with Elliot… He forgot about all that, he stopped perceiving the time course, and submerged himself completely in his "task". In the end, he glanced at the digits indicating the actual time in the corner of the screen and realized that it took him precisely 15 minutes.

"Bret?" He breathed out, relieved, and let a victorious smirk on his face.

"Hm..?" a long sigh came as an answer.

"I think I've just found out who I am."

"Surprise me." Snorted the blonde, clearly grinning, but not looking away from the laptop screen.

"Complete and utter bastard." Leonard answered simply, rocked on the chair and finished his beer.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

_Some of us will simply never change._ Heimdall sighed silently and started thinking over the proper words he would use to explain everything he had just witnessed to his king.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

Leonard cleared his throat nervously and scratched his head. One would think that removing the "upgrades" from Shiro's computer would take exactly the same amount of time as their installment. However, it all had a certain flaw. This work was not enjoyable at all. Leonard felt utterly bored and tired. He would rather take the last remaining piece of pizza, scuff in the bed's direction, plump on it and read something interesting. But what could be done? He had known all along that a certain sort of punishment was inevitable if he didn't want to lose his other friend's favor.

And besides, Leonard could not think of anything else to do anyway. It was dark outside already; both his companions were studying intensively and well, perhaps he should have been doing the same. _Nah. _He drummed his fingers on the table surface, then took the laptop in his lap, shifted slightly with the chair so he could rest his long legs on the desk and stretched his arms._ Whatever…_

Leonard swung in his chair in a demonstrative fashion and gave his other roommate an inquisitive stare. The latter was sitting cross-legged on the couch beside the table, hunched above his book, seemingly deep in thought.

"May I at least sit on the bed and finish it there? It feels quite uncomfortable here." Leonard decided to give it another try.

However, Shiro remained perfectly silent and undisturbed. Instead of showing any kind of reaction, he just stretched his slender body, cracked the knuckles and shook his head a little, so that his mahogany-dyed hair fell forward and partly covered his face. Then he made himself comfortable on his couch, propped one elbow on his knee, rested his head in the hand and returned to solving the problem. And as usual, he accompanied his thoughts with tapping the pencil against the book.

But Leonard was not willing to give in and swung in his chair again. This time a bit further, in order to get into Shiro's field of vision.

At that, the latter just sniffed (and Leonard hated that sound) and cleared his throat rather noisily. Then he looked up to glance at Leonard through the tresses of his hair with a faked surprise. "Oh, sorry. Have you wished for something particular?"

"Yes I have. Could you please stop that?"

"What exactly?" Shiro shook his head once more, his hair revealing his left eye as well, and gave Leonard his famous, perfect poker face.

"That idiotic tapping, sniffling and all the other disgusting noises."

"Right." Shiro replied, perfectly steady and calm. "Let me think…" he said, drumming the fingertips against his lips and spinning the pencil around the fingers of the other hand.

"Okay. Let's presume I would want to blow my nose." He began, looking sideways at Leonard. "However, this has two major flaws – first, we don't have any hankies left, and second – there's only the last, tiny bit of the toilet paper remaining. So, unless I decide to use, let's say…" Shiro turned to the table beside him, "…this kind of nonsense to clear my respiratory system…" he reached out to grab a copy of a scientific paper manuscript lying next to the tiny lamp.

"Hey!" Expressing his protest loudly, Leonard stopped his friend's intentions by dragging the manuscript promptly out of reach. "I haven't read it yet!" He scowled at Shiro. "Besides - you know, if you need something to blow your nose into, maybe when Bret's finished with the exercises he will gladly provide you with several pages of his study." Leonard added and smirked, glancing over his shoulder at his bright-haired roommate.

"Shut up and work." A deep, calm voice sounded from the bed.

"Well, I do. What about you, sweetheart?" Leonard teased, raising his eyebrows, waiting. When he did not receive any answer he decided to resume the mockery. "Have you finished at least the first one?" He tried and immediately rocked forward with his chair, ducking the textbook sent flying at him. Instead of his head, the book hit the tiny lamp on the corner of the table and fell elegantly into the cavity between the table and the couch.

Leonard waited for the silence to settle back in and cleared his throat. "I take this as a ‚no'."

A weak rustle sounded from the other side, followed by Shiro's silent cough. Leonard turned his head and saw his tiny friend's meaningful look and an even more meaningful raised hand that was holding a carpet tape.

"All right, I'm shutting up. Satisfied?" Leonard spat back in annoyance, rolled his eyes and stretched his lean body. Then he rubbed his weary face and had a brief look at the first page of the paper Garo assigned him to read. _Actually… I promised I would read it today._ He sighed, annoyed even more. He should go through the abstract at least, he persuaded himself in the end, reached out for the overthrown lamp and moved the paper into the light.

"_Einstein-Rosen Bridge: Cassimir effect-stabilization approach proved plausible."_ Said the title._ Interesting,_ Leonard mused and shifted his look to the title of the journal in which the paper was supposed to be published. _Astrophysical Journal_? He snorted internally. _You should have aimed for Nature or Science._ He sighed, slightly amused, and checked the authors. _Foster J., Tanaka S., Sharma T., Selvig E. ...Such a pity. _Leonard thought upon reading the names_, Don't know any of you, guys._

"You really think it's a nonsense?" Leonard asked after a moment, turned the first page and glanced at Shiro. "I admit the title sounds quite visionary, but…"

"At least it's rather strange. Just have a look at the methods and you'll see." The Japanese mumbled in response.

"Mhm." Leonard frowned and went through several charts. "To be honest I can't say I'm in the mood for digging it too deep." He decided eventually, leaned back and gave his friend a pretty smile. "Well, but… something's telling me you already have..?"

At that, Shiro stopped biting at the pencil end and raised his look. "And?"

"Nah! Come on, Shiro-san!" Leonard pleaded sweetly. "Just look into my sad eyes."

The Japanese on the couch scratched the back of his head with the pencil. "Aww." He said, tilting his head to the side. „How tragic. Makes me wanna burst in tears."

"Shiro-kun!"

"You know what to do." The addressed answered strictly and digging his gaze back into his book, he just pointed silently at his laptop. "When you've finished, we _may_ discuss the option of me telling you what's going on in that paper."

"No worries, I'll be finished in no time." Leonard sighed, all but resigned. "But before I do, you may at least show some respect to what I've done."

Shiro sighed, seemingly exhausted by the nowhere-leading conversation. "Look," he began and cleared his throat slightly, "when I switch my laptop on, I want it to communicate with me and do exactly what I tell the thing to do. What I really do _not_ need the thing to do is accusing me of stealing something and telling me that it _knows_." He turned to give Leonard a menacing stare. "And whenever I open a file, I want it to be _that exact_ file, and not a picture of Bender Rodriguez telling me to exterminate the human race!"

"You sure?" Leonard tried, looking at the screen again. "Sometimes I think it's a pretty good idea." He mumbled more or less to himself.

"Oh yes, I am pretty sure." The final answer sounded.

"But you see," Leonard replied, full of well-pretended sorrow, "I thought you like Bender. In fact, all I wanted was to make you happy, you know."

Shiro grinned. "Please don't cry, my friend. I truly appreciate your efforts, it's just… The wrong timing, perhaps? Yes. Yes, that's it."

"Yeah, I've feared that form the start." Leonard sighed and tossed the paper manuscript onto the table desk. "But worry not." He smirked. "I shall give it a proper try next time." _And same goes to you, Mr. Foster. Or Miss?  
><em>

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

"Why haven't you told my father first, Heimdall?"

The person in question paused in thought and hesitated for a while. He grasped the hilt of his sword tightly and searched his mind for the proper answer. „I know the state your father is in very well. Hence I just wanted to know your opinion before addressing him directly." he stated finally, his deep voice remaining calm. His golden eyes were fixated on the snowy fields of Jotunheim again. However, his thoughts were filled with the images of the unexpected events he had just seen in the world of mortals. And at the same time, he was well aware of the nervousness of his younger master, Prince Thor, who was standing next to him right now.

"Moreover, since the unfortunate Bifrost-event you were the one to see me the most often." Heimdall pointed out. "Although we both know how much water has passed under my feet since your last visit here, I still…"

"Heimdall, please." Thor cut the Guardian off.

"I know what you want to ask." Said Heimdall and paused for a second. "It is not in my intention to give excuses for my inadvertence. I regret deeply that I could not inform you about your brother's whereabouts earlier. However, be assured that I laid my gaze upon each and every one of the Nine Realms in order to possibly find him. Until I've been given another task."

"I know, Heimdall. And I did not want to accuse you of anything." Thor sighed and unmoving, he observed the falling water masses below. "I just don't understand… Is it possible at all? How could have Loki spent so much time on Midgard without us noticing?" He shook his head in confusion. "He hates that realm. Now more than ever. And I… I couldn't even imagine what would possibly happen if he returned there."

"This is true." Heimdall agreed. "However, I daresay that the main reason why Prince Loki's presence amongst the mortals escaped our notice is very simple." He said and after a short pause he could feel the questioning stare on him, so he continued. "According to all I have witnessed, Prince Loki simply believes he is a mortal himself."

Silence. And then – a chuckle. No. A laugh. Prince Thor of Asgard let out a short, but the more cordial laugh. He brushed one hand across his forehead, then rubbed his cheeks and turned to his companion once again. "That's… Who would ever have guessed…" He trailed off, smiling.

"Being the Gatekeeper of Asgard has taught me one thing." Heimdall afforded himself a small smile as well. "At times, the branches of the World Tree tend to tangle in the most unexpected ways."

"Nicely expressed." Thor admitted and raised his head to look at the glittering stars above. "It fits the situation so much it almost hurts. But tell me," he said, turning his sight back to Heimdall, "How could that happen? Has Loki forgotten who he is?"

"It does seem so. But I would be careful naming it as a mere memory loss. It appears to me that there is something more behind it, but I am afraid there is only a little evidence for me to latch on for now."

"And why do you assume it's not a regular memory loss?" Thor asked and creased his forehead.

"I doubt that a simple amnesia would strike someone like Prince Loki in such a strong and thorough manner. Not to mention that the duration of the memory loss is simply too long. Even if being an after-effect of a serious injury, the amnesia would subside as soon as the body would heal." Heimdall answered calmly. "I can say that the complete and permanent memory loss is absolutely excluded when it comes to Asgardians."

"So, is there at least a hint of what the real cause may be?"

"I cannot find anyone within the world of mortals capable of manipulating with Prince Loki's memory in any way. Except for Prince Loki."

Thor frowned deeply. "Are you implying he inflicted that to himself?"

"Again, I must stress out that it is just my speculation. I am merely assuming from the little I have seen. But whatever it may be, it must be very strong. Even after having seen his true form, your brother still could not recall anything. And one would definitely expect the memories to come back after a terrifying and strong impulse such as watching a mortal's hands turn into a Frost Giant's."

"You mean that Loki saw..?"

"His hands. His true hands." Heimdall nodded just a fraction, his eyes constantly fixated on the starry space before them. "His desperate cries called me in."

Thor seethed with rage and clenched his hands into fists. "I should have been there." He closed his eyes for a second and then turned to Heimdall with another question. "Why that happened, Heimdall? How come that my brother could see his true form all of a sudden?"

"I can't tell."

Thor breathed out and looked down to the abyss below. "My father is truly growing old and tired each day. His power is getting too weak to keep my brother's Jotun form hidden... This is it. It must be."

"His _power_?" Heimdall asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"What do you mean, my friend?"

"I think I am not the right one with whom you should discuss this topic."

"But my father won't talk to me and you know that very well! Please, tell me everything you know!"

And Heimdall fell silent for a while, considering the words he was about to say. Then he began in a low but steady voice. "May I ask you a question, my lord?"

"Go on."

"Why do you think your brother's true appearance did not return when your father fell into Odinsleep?"

Silence.

"The answer is simple." Heimdall resumed calmly, his voice strangely comforting. "It is not and it has never been the _power_ of Odin that kept the true origin and look of Prince Loki in secret. It has been something else entirely. Right from the start, through all the years and ages, and despite everything that happened recently, your father has loved Prince Loki as his own son. This is the true cause. And it will last, should your father grow old, weak, or even fall into Odinsleep."

"Then it means that…"

"No, I am fairly sure that this has nothing to do with your father's lack of love for Prince Loki."

"So what is it, then?"

"As I implied before, I cannot give anything reliable. For I have seen…" Heimdall suddenly stopped, almost as if intending to think over his next words carefully. "I have seen _too little_." He said attentively and resisted the urge to give Prince Thor a quick, meaningful glance.

In that moment, a tense silence embraced the two companions standing at the end of the shattered Bridge.

"Heimdall." Thor began. "What do you consider me?" he asked, his tone guarded.

"I regard you as the one and rightful heir of the Throne of Asgard and my lord." Heimdall stated firmly and for the first time in their conversation, turned to look at Thor directly. "And it is an honor for me to serve you and fulfill your wishes." A short pause. "All of them." He added, somewhat quieter and bowed his head slightly.

At that, Thor's lip twisted in a mischievous grin. "Tell me, my friend," he began, little long-winded, and laid a hand on Heimdall's armored shoulder. "You must have been watching my little brother's actions quite closely when he had been still amongst us, have you not?"

"I dare express my confusion and embarrassment at your question, my lord."

Thor laughed. "Well, well… It just appears to me that you like to play a bit with words and their meanings. Quite the same as my dear brother."

"I do use each opportunity to improve my dialogue skills, my lord. I have to since I am not given many."

"Very well." Thor concluded then and looked in the royal palace direction. He bit on his forefinger and thought for a moment. Then he turned back to the Guardian. "I have no intentions to measure my dialogue skills with those of my brother or yours. And so, I just have to ask you again – you know the task you have been assigned to, do you?"

"I was told to watch the Jotuns, my lord."

"Exactly, my friend! Very good. This is very important." Thor nodded in agreement and put on a slightly exaggerated, strict expression. Then he raised his index finger to emphasize his words. "You _must_ watch them _all_. Please do not miss any single one of their kind." He ordered, then smiled softly and turned to look at the stars. "Whatever they may look like." He added quietly.

"I shall do as you wish, my lord." Said Heimdall, brought his right arm to his chest and bowed his head.

"I'm glad you understand." Thor grinned and patted the Gatekeeper's shoulder. Then he looked down. "Tell me now, Heimdall. What is he doing there?"

"He is a student." A simple answer came.

"He is a _what_?" Thor frowned in disbelief. "What can Loki possibly learn from the mortals?"

"It sounds very surprising, indeed. But he appears to be a student of a very prestigious school."

At that, Thor just tilted his head back, folded his arms in front of him and laughed. "See my little brother? Just wait, if you return I'll remind you of this every single day." He inhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his bright hair. "But actually… He does exactly the same as he always did here, yes?"

"Indeed."

"Well and… Does he get on with the others?"

"Yes he does, I would say." Heimdall replied. "It appears he shares his dwelling with two other mortals, which he considers his friends. Especially one of them. Perhaps you would care to know…" Heimdall implied, his tone mysterious, and smiled.

"Know what?" Thor insisted eagerly.

"That this particular human looks strikingly similar to you, my lord."

Thor blinked, astounded. "To me?" He uttered. "You said his close friend is similar to me?"

"Apart from lowly manners and a vulgar language, yes." Heimdall explained, sounding somewhat apologetic.

Thor chuckled quietly. "I'd like to see him."

Heimdall just laughed lightly in reply. "Perhaps one day you will."

"Perhaps." Thor echoed. "Tell me, what is Loki doing right now?" He asked again.

"He is reading a book. No, he was." Heimdall answered. "He must have fallen asleep while learning."

"Old habits die hard, right, brother?" Thor sighed silently. Then he looked at the stars again and his smile weakened. He closed his eyes and got down on his knees. In that moment, Heimdall sensed the wind blow, calming and comforting. A thunder came thrumming from the distance, and the great waterfalls below stirred and rippled.

But Heimdall remained calm. He knew that this all was just another way the eldest Prince of Asgard expressed his emotions.

"I am with you, Loki." Thor whispered when he opened his eyes. "I always will. I promise."

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

Leonard rubbed his hands nervously and sat down in his row. For some reason, the next row was too distant and low, so he was forced to bend forward and almost lie down on the desk in order to write on the blank sheet paper he had been provided with.

"Well then, my dear colleagues, each one of you have received the same test, one blank sheet of paper and a pencil. It's 8 o'clock right now, so I believe we may begin. Good luck to everyone." Said Professor Hudson in a rather croaking voice and Leonard turned around the test instructions.

And right the first problem was not making any sense at all. _So be it. Let's try the second one. _Leonard thought but even if he turned the page several times, searched the paper thoroughly from both sides… He could not find any problem number two. The problem number two was clearly missing. There was the number three instead. A very short one, but Leonard just could not understand the meaning of that simple question. _All right, don't panic, just move back to the first one._ He told himself and took the given pencil and the blank sheet of paper and started writing down the questions of the first task.

However, there was not a single letter visible on the paper. Leonard viewed his pencil intently and found out that it was brand new; it had not been even sharpened yet. _How come?_ Leonard suddenly felt that at least 10 minutes out of the 40 reserved had passed already. So he did not hesitate any further and raised his hand. No reaction. "Professor?" Nothing again. "Professor Hudson, please?"

"Any problem, Mr. Wednesday? Something's not clear?"

"No, it's just… My pencil."

"What's wrong with your pencil?"

"Well, it wouldn't write."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes! It is not even sharpened!"

"I beg your pardon?" Professor Hudson squeaked.

"I'm telling you. It. Is. Not. Sharpened."

"Mr. Wednesday, you have been given exactly the same pencil as everyone else in this lecture room."

Feeling like going mad, Leonard looked around the full lecture room furiously. Everybody seemed to be writing and filling in the test quite happily. And so fast… Some of his colleagues appeared to have the whole page written all over. _How is that possible?_

"Mr. Hudson, I see everyone is writing but my pencil was simply not sharpened, so I can't use it to write anything." Leonard protested.

Professor Hudson sighed, seemingly annoyed, fluttered the newspaper in his hands and folded it in his lap. "Mr. Wednesday, aren't you possibly implying that you have missed my yesterday's email where I stressed out that every student should bring the pencil sharpener?" croaked the Professor and popped his eyes at Leonard. "You haven't read that email, have you? And what have you done instead, Mr. Wednesday? Come on, tell me! And hurry up, you have only 15 minutes left!"

"What?" Leonard shouted, horrified. "We… but we've just started!"

"Mr. Wednesday, if you don't intend to continue the test, be so kind and leave."

"Fine!" Leonard spat back fiercely, threw away the pencil and got ready to get up. But he could not. It simply was not possible.

"What's the matter, Mr. Wednesday? What are you waiting for?"

"I'm trying..!" Leonard objected and kept on yanking desperately in futile attempts to unglue at least one foot from the floor.

Professor Hudson tossed away the newspaper, jumped to his feet and ran up towards Leonard. "Leonard Wednesday, if you won't leave now…" he rasped and popped his eyes even more. Watching this, Leonard held onto the desk tightly and struggled to tear himself away from the bench, or just simply to move a little bit. But his legs appeared to having been rooted to the ground. In the meantime, Professor Hudson approached him, grabbed the test furiously and ripped it apart. The tearing sound was terrifying; and for some reason very noisy as well. Leonard kept on watching it all with sheer disbelief. "Stop it, please, I'm trying!" he cried out, yanked once more…

...

And woke up.

"What's up?" Bret murmured with a surprised, a bit angered and sleepy expression. It seemed like he had just woken up himself – his hair were stuck all over his face and there were creased papers all over Bret's half of the double-bed.

"Hudson." Leonard uttered after a moment and looked around in confusion, frowning.

"Hudson what..?"

"He wanted us to bring the pencil-sharpeners. I should have brought one…" Leonard went on, despite his words weren't making any sense to him. As a result, he knitted his brows together in confusion and scratched at his temple.

"Yeah?" Bret chuckled hoarsely and unfolded one of the crumpled papers with his exercises. "Well if it's enough to get the points and pass that exam, then I'm perfectly ok with it. I have two sharpeners." The blonde pointed out, raising two fingers to stress the information out and arched his eyebrows. "And in case it's not enough…" he went on, collecting the rest of creased papers, "we can snatch that big one with the handle from Shiro's table. Ya know, as a bonus." He stopped and viewed the solved problems on the piece of paper. "I hope it's gonna work because otherwise I'm finished. Oh, and it seems like you ripped apart a page in your textbook." He added matter-of-factly, gesturing vaguely at the said textbook, which happened to be the one Leonard had fallen asleep on.

"Oh crap! Not again." Leonard mumbled and looked at the rip in the page. Eventually, he turned the page and frowned. "I haven't even got half-way through that chapter. And I intended to finish it tonight." He explained and went through several following pages briefly. But then he suddenly stopped, propped himself on his elbows and listened to the music for a moment. "This is not quite motivating, is it?" he smirked at the sound of the live performance of "_Another Brick in the Wall_".

"Hm. For the diligent students? Hardly." Bret let out a tired laugh. "But one thing's for sure – Rog might have a point there. We should let it go and get some sleep."

"Sounds reasonable." Leonard agreed, snapped the textbook shut and threw it away. "What about you?" he turned to look at his blonde companion. "Have you solved everything?"

"Yeah." Bret yawned. "But it takes me too long… tomorrow's gonna be tough."

"We'll think about something." Said Leonard and paused in thought. "I dreamed that there was just one variant of the test."

"Hmf." Bret snorted. "That would be great. But you forget that Hudson will never let me sit behind you."

"Of course he won't. But we can still make a deal with someone else and you can sit behind them."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Could you two just shut up?" Shiro rasped from the couch. Leonard peeked over his shoulder to see his little colleague checking on the cell phone.

"Do you oafs realize it's 2:30am?" The Japanese protested. „We've only four fucking hours left to sleep."

"Then be so kind, turn around and shut the fuck up." Bret uttered tiredly and switched off the lamp on his nightstand.

"You first!" Shiro spat back angrily. "Oh, and I think you've dropped some of your belongings here."

"What?" Bret muttered, almost asleep.

Leonard sneaked closer, leaned over and whispered. "I think your textbook is going to arrive at any moment."

"Whatever." Bret mumbled in response. "Ouch!" he cried out just a second later.

"Yeah. This one." Leonard snickered.

Bret huffed something incoherent and after several moments of puffing he threw the textbook away. "Good night." He barked.

"That's all?" Leonard asked in a teasing tone, leaning in a bit.

"Touch me and you're dead." Bret mumbled, gathering his last power reserves to do so.

Leonard smiled contentedly, turned to the window and covered himself. "Good night." He whispered and turned off his own tiny lamp, too.

And everything turned dark. Only the street lamps enlightened the room partly. The shadows were running around, chased by the lights of the passing cars.

After a while of tossing and turning, Leonard was glad to find a comfortable position, but right after that he realized another problem. He stopped feeling sleepy. His eyes would not close and rest, no matter what. He watched the almost unnoticeable waving of the curtain, then sighed deeply and turned on his back.

Alone.

He was alone once again, just with his restless, unpredictable thoughts. And that was not good. He ran a sweaty palm across his face and made his eyelids slide shut. He rubbed his closed eyes using the thumb and forefinger.

The random playback picked up "_Coming Back to Life_". Leonard reopened his eyes and took a look outside the window. He rested the wrist of his hand on his forehead, let out a long breath and just listened. And to his surprise, a few raindrops drummed on the windowpane. He smiled. It was almost like someone wished to help him fall asleep.

_It's raining_. He sighed, somewhat relieved, and turned to the side. Then he folded the right arm under his head and dragged the blanket to his chin with the left hand.

He loved falling asleep while it was raining outside. It was one of the few things that were able to comfort him, make him feel relaxed. _Perhaps I should move to a country with often rains._ He mused. But then he desired to breathe some fresh air. So he got up, walked slowly to the window and opened it. He moved the curtain aside and looked outside, resting his elbows on the apron. At first it seemed to be just a quick shower, but then a thunder hummed from the distance and the rain got heavier.

The thundering sound was strangely muted. It sounded almost… comforting. Leonard took in the cool, rain-scented air, leaned his head against the window frame and reached out his right arm. A tender shower of raindrops stroked his skin, washing it gently. And at that moment, Leonard realized it felt good to him. Even if both of his friends were fast asleep, not having a slightest idea about the rain and thundering; for some unknown reason he did not feel alone anymore. He smiled softly and let the wet arm rest on the apron for a while.

_The life isn't that bad after all. Maybe. _He told himself in the end and looked up to the dark, clouded sky.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

_Lost in thought and lost in time_  
><em> While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted<em>  
><em> Outside the rain fell dark and slow<em>  
><em> While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime<em>

_ I took a heavenly ride through our silence_  
><em> I knew the moment had arrived<em>  
><em> For killing the past and coming back to life<em>

_(Pink Floyd; Coming Back to Life)_

* * *

><p><strong>Now, I apologize if I made someone angry about the scientific paper title. It was the best I could come up with after as much reasearch as I have done for wormholes ;) <strong>

**Please review and let me know if you spotted any mistakes in English._  
><em>**


	10. Shape of My Heart, Part II

Firstly, I own nothing

Secondly, this chapter is dedicated to all members, former or current, of the excellent prog-metal band Dream Theater.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Shape of My Heart, Part II<strong>

_And if I told you that I loved you  
>You'd maybe think there's something wrong<br>I'm not a man of too many faces  
>The mask I wear is one<em>

_(Sting; Shape of my Heart)_

* * *

><p>A lonesome woman was striding down the dark street. A purse hung on her shoulder, flapping against her side; her other arm was wrapped around a shopping bag. Her clothes were very simple - today she had put on a loose, checked shirt, a black vest and a pair of rather worn jeans. Her feet nestled in sneakers of indefinite color that were always boasting one or two smears of dirt.<p>

Her hands were small and delicate, just as her whole appearance. Her eyes were thoughtful and bright, adorned with dark, beautifully curved eyebrows, with no make-up to accentuate her features - the eyes alone were twinkling enough with the restless flame of her brilliant mind. Her face showed calm and composure, yet if one looked closer, they would surely recognize a touch of absence, as if a part of her thoughts always lingered somewhere else. Her hair had a color similar to that of dark caramel, was straight and fell to her shoulder blades. In sum, one could most certainly notice that the simple outfit somehow just did not match her unusual beauty.

She stopped before the parking lot and looked around prior to walking towards her car. Then she opened the trunk, heaved the shopping bag in between several coils of cables, an old computer, a speaker set, a small telescope and its tripod. After smashing the trunk close she made a few hesitant steps to the front door, but then, suddenly, she stopped and turned her head the other way.

It was _that_ parking lot across the street. And _that_ dorm. _Which one of the windows is his? Is it dark or lit? Can I see it from here at all?_ She smiled weakly and let out a long sigh.

Jane looked up. It was a bright night, the stars glittering in the dark skies. For a moment, she seemed to be hesitating, fighting a hidden battle in her thoughts. But then she looked back down. The car lock clicked, and Jane Foster started towards the familiar dorm across the street. _That_ dorm.

She stopped at the main entrance and tried to peek inside through the glass door. To do that, she leaned closer and brought her hands to the glass surface and shielded her sight from the street lights. She recognized the front desk and an elderly receptionist standing behind it. And as soon as she did, she realized that he was pointing at her and gesturing wildly. At first, she just stepped back, startled and embarrassed a bit, and looked around, pretending to have no further interest in the building. However, she heard a noise. And again. He was calling for someone to come in. For her.

So she chose to open the door and walk in. "Good evening." She tried politely and approached the desk. "Um, sorry, I just-" she managed before being cut off swiftly by… _Joel Barnes_, read the old man's badge.

"What do you want?" snapped the guy.

"Well, nothing bad." She offered a smile despite feeling slightly offended. "I just wanted to speak with-"

"So a visitor? But I'll require your name and signature, here." The man stopped her again and moved a book in front of her. "I am terribly sorry, madam, but we had a few, eh, _fake_ visitors here before you showed up. If you know what I mean. Demanding change or cigarettes." He finally decided to come up with an apology.

"I see." Jane smiled again and leaned against the desk.

"Yes. Here." The man nodded and pointed at the line in the book where Jane was supposed to sign. "Oh and… There's a fee if you're going to stay overnight."

"Ah." Jane smiled. "No, I think I'm not." _Don't blush, Jane. Don't you dare!_

"Good evening!" A familiar voice shouted from the entrance. Jane turned and her eyes met Garo, the senior research fellow at MIT, and currently their dear guest at the research facility. "Oh. Good evening, Jane!" he added upon noticing her presence.

"Wait, you're working for SHIELD?" the receptionist asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes." Jane confirmed.

"May I see your ID?"

"Of course." Jane answered and reached to her purse to find the item.

"All… Right." Chimed the receptionist as he wrote down the ID number. "Then you may stay as long as you wish without worry. No fees for the SHIELD people." He looked up and grinned.

"Thank you, that's... great." Jane answered, holding back a giggle. "But I'm still sure I'm not going to stay overnight."

"As you wish." The man raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "And whom are you going to visit?"

"Um…" Jane looked at Garo and the awkward feeling crept on her once again.

"Well, I'm afraid I am not the one, am I?" Garo grinned knowingly. "I'd say it's rather Mr. Wednesday, huh?" he asked playfully as he approached.

"Eh…"

"Wednesday, I see!" The receptionist bubbled, apparently amused. "Another beautiful lady… lucky man, lucky man!" He murmured, waiting for Jane's reaction.

"Another?" Jane repeated, frowning in confusion.

"Oh. Didn't you know about the other woman?" The receptionist asked with a smirk.

"What?" Jane snorted.

"Hey, stop that. Today I feel rather tired for quarrels." Garo cut in, frowning at Mr. Barnes. "Would you mind me escorting you upstairs, Jane?" He asked and offered his elbow for her to cling onto. To Jane it sounded more like a command, though.

"Uh... yes. Why not?" She muttered and held Garo by the forearm obediently.

"Have a wonderful evening, Professor Callahan! And you, Dr. Foster!" the receptionist called after them. Jane inhaled and tunred to look over her shoulder, but Garo gave a jerk forward. "Please, don't take it serious." He half-whidpered to her and called the evelator. "The guy is just utterly bored most of the time, that's it."

Then the elevator chimed and they walked in. Garo pressed the buttons for the first and second floor. "Second is mine." he smiled; then sighed. "As a young lad I would run and jump up the stairs like a stag. Well, I would like to even now, but I'm afraid my knees wouldn't agree."

"I see." Smiling nervously, Jane answered and started to feel inappropriate as the doors closed. They moved up in awkward silence. Then the chime sounded again – finally! – and the doors opened. A muffled sound of music poured in.

"So, we've reached your destination." Garo encouraged.

"Thank you." Said Jane and stepped out of the cabin. "Oh, and – " she turned around confusedly for further advice.

"The second door." Garo pointed, blocking the closing doors. "The source of this terrible noise." He added, gesturing with his chin.

"Yeah. Thanks!" Jane called and raised her small hand to knock on the incriminated door. An inch before the surface, she stopped and hesitated. _What am I doing here?_

"Oh! Wait!" Garo exclaimed, his tone rather annoyed, and escaped the elevator cabin and walked over to her. Then he pounded on the dark, wooden door a few times. "That should work." He winked and moved quickly back to the elevator. Jane managed to catch a glimpse of the old man grinning and waving at her before he got out of view. Then she turned back to the wooden door. The music was turned down.

"Tek?" Leonard's voice could be heard from the inside.

"Um – "

"I told you to come in half an hour!" Leonard shouted in annoyance, apparently approaching the door.

And Jane decided not to procrastinate this any longer. She bit her lip, entwined her fingers behind her back and started toward the stairway in a hurry. She could hear the door unlock –

"Jane?"

_Crap._ She closed her eyes tightly and stopped at the first stair.

"Jane? It's you?" he called after her. She turned slowly and saw him viewing her through the slightly opened door.

"Yes, unfortunately." She bowed her head and walked back slowly.

"Unfortunately?" He wondered. "I mean," he paused nervously and raised one hand to scratch at his temple. "I see… I'm sorry about the computation. Didn't make it in time, I know. But I'm working on it, promise."

"What?" Jane frowned in confusion at first. "No!" she let out a reassuring chuckle then. "I, um… I was just passing by and thought I might come and see you." She shrugged, smiling. "Nothing work-related. Promise. But I don't want to disturb you, either." she bowed her head again, clutching at the edges of her sleeves.

"You? No way!" He smiled back. "So – do you want to come in?" He offered, his usually steady voice gaining a nervous shadow.

"Yeah." She nodded, blushing lightly, and stepped forward. She expected the door to open, however...

"Yes, um… Could you please wait there?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "Just a sec, okay?"

"Uh. Yeah, I guess." She grinned in response. After that, the slit in the entrance space offered her a short glimpse of the pale skin of his back. _Oh. He's shirtless._ Jane realized and tried to remember when it had been last since she saw a shirtless man. And she remembered that exact moment. It had been more than three years ago. A certain fair-haired warrior. A prince. Alien. The stealer of her heart. _Three years?_ She sighed, touching the door surface.

The sound of empty bottles tingling reached her ears and woke her up. "Leonard?" she called, not entering.

"Just a minute!" He sounded.

"Oh. So it's a minute now? I believe I heard something about seconds…" She smirked, digging her thumbnail in the door material.

"Yes, yes. I'm deeply sorry, I just – I had no idea you would come." his muted voice answered swiftly.

"Well, I'm sorry, but… Look, I'm not here to inspect your room. So no need for any cleaning frenzy."

She heard him chuckle. "Yeah, that's nice to hear. Just a moment, please."

"Hey! I'm coming in." she stated firmly and began to open the door. "You know, I lived in a trailer once. One could have witnessed a _real_ mess there."

"Jane!" he let out a desperate laugh.

"Sorry, even the minute has passed. Your time's up." She stated as if adamantly and entered. And the very first thing that struck her was how small the room was. She looked to the right at first.

Right beside the entrance, there was a small chest of drawers that was separating a modest bed from the entrance area. Said piece of furniture was clearly preventing the inhabitant of this room from tossing his things right onto the bed after coming in. The head of the bed was situated in the corner - the wall on one side, a nightstand with a tiny lamp on the other. Then there was a table in the next corner of the room. Jane noticed the familiar white laptop on the desk, along with a few empty bottles, a half-eaten box of chocolate ice-cream and several piles of papers and textbooks.

The walls of the room were white, however, to disturb this uniformity, the areas above the table and bed were adorned with all different sorts of pictures, photographs and posters.

Then, in the opposite wall, there was a window, and the street lights were coming through a simple white curtain. It was opened fully, the curtain moving slowly in the air. Next to the window stood a black box that Jane recognized as a tiny fridge. Then a large bookshelf that was partly filled with books and document folders; partly with a CD collection and a small stereo with wooden loudspeakers. And finally, the next corner and a large wardrobe on the left side - it was wide open as a certain lean man who wore just a pair of worn green sweatpants was trying to stuff it with a heterogeneous mixture of clothing, using primarily his legs to do so.

Holding onto the upper frame of the wardrobe, he peeked over his shoulder. "Sorry." He apologized, chuckling lightly, and rubbed the back of his head. Then he turned swiftly back to the pile of clothes and picked up a white t-shirt, smelled it, then tossed it back and reached into the wardrobe for a fresh one. It was a simple black t-shirt with a reddish imprint that looked like some tour dates.

"That's…" Jane uttered as she watched the skin of his back disappear behind the dark textile. She caught a glimpse of something strange. A white line that ran from the shoulder, across the ribs and spine and down to his hip. It looked like… _A scar?_

"What?" Leonard grinned, turning around finally. Then he looked at his t-shirt, stretching it to have a better view. "Yeah, it's a pity. It got rubbed and washed out too soon. But it still holds the precious memories." He remarked at the 'Megadeth' sign on the front. "Sorry, but this is actually the last clean piece left, I'm afraid. Apart from the clothes for tomorrow, as you can see." He murmured at the pile and resumed stuffing it into the wardrobe.

"Leonard, just leave that laundry. I think I can handle the sight of it." Jane protested playfully. Then she stretched her arms and turned slowly around to have another detailed look at the room. And well, apart from the laundry there was not much one could call a mess. The room was just too small, that was it.

Her eyes stopped at the small gallery above the table and bed. Apart from a landscape painting in the wooden frame that had seemingly belonged to this room before, there were several charcoal drawings, photos of different sizes and on the wall right above the bed hung a big poster of an unknown nebula. Or at least Jane was not able to identify it at first.

She was not sure which picture to pick to lay her eyes on first. So she decided to turn back to Leonard, who seemed to have completed his cleaning task. "Um – " she shrugged.

"I'm listening?" He said, coming closer and putting on a light smile.

"Please excuse my confusion, but where exactly is all that promised mess?" She tilted her head, darting a sideways glance at him.

His smile became more obvious and mischievous as he approached her, crossing his arms. "It's still there." He answered silkily. "Your sudden visit just forced me to veil it all with my magic, so the regular mortals could not see it."

"Hm." Jane answered, playing along. She folded her arms, too, let a frown on her face and looked meaningfully at the wardrobe. "Interesting. But it seems it rather did not work with the laundry."

"That's one explanation." He agreed unfathomably.

"And the other one is..?" she asked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Either my magic isn't working properly or you are not a regular mortal." He replied, his voice getting quieter.

"Now, that's a question, right?" she smiled, dropping her sight. After that, neither of them spoke. Still smiling lightly, Jane felt the blood rush to her cheeks. _What is going to happen now?_ She asked herself. _He must be wondering why I came here. Well, why?_

And so she waited, listening to the muted sound of music.

„…_Sun  
>Come shine my way<br>May healing waters bury all my pain…"_

"What are we listening to, by the way?" she murmured after a moment, raising her gaze. The look in his eyes reminded her of their first meeting. That immeasurable, intriguing green. His eyes were reflecting something she could not name; but she was quite certain that this time, the sadness had mostly faded away.

"Dream Theater." He said and blinked.

"Hm." She nodded once, curling the lower lip and turning her look away.

"Familiar?" His eyebrow went slightly up.

"Kind of." Jane admitted, happy to be able to response.

"Oh." Was all he said at first. "Could you elaborate this, please?" His eyes were narrowing in expectation.

"Well." she let out a short, silent laugh. "Petrucci. He's their guitarist, right?"

"Correct." He smiled with a hint of disbelief. "How did you know?"

"Believe it or not," folding her arms in front of her, Jane narrowed her eyes as well, "I happen to possess his album. By accident, but - there were times I had been listening to it almost every day."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. There's… Sort of a mathematical perfection in it. Helps your brain absorb new stuff."

"Er…" he grinned widely. "We're lucky my friend isn't here. He'd be probably asking you to marry him by now."

"Wha-"

"Anyway. I'm impressed as well." He teased, swaying forward.

"Yeah." She nodded, watching him warily. "You better."

"So," after another moment of heavy silence, he joined his hands at the back of his head and showed a little, insecure smile. "Are you… hungry or something?" he asked.

"No." Jane answered. "I've eaten a while ago."

"Good!" he said and clapped his palms together. "That's actually very fortunate." His smile widened as he bent down to the fridge and opened it, "'Cause it seems like someone stole all the food from here."

Jane moved to have a look. "Hm. So a food-burglar?"

"Yes, exactly. Could you believe it?" he turned to give her a half-hearted, grossed out look.

"Terrible." Jane sighed in a playful agreement. "But whoever it was, he doesn't seem to be a beer-burglar." She pointed out, referring to the last remaining item in the fridge, which happened to be a bottle of beer.

"That's rather strange, right?" he wondered. "Hm?" he said ten, offering the bottle to Jane.

She hesitated. "And what about you?"

"I have one opened on the table..."

"Oh. Then why not?" she agreed and took the bottle after Leonard had opened it for her.

Then he stood up, walked to the table and waited for Jane to follow. "Please, take a seat, lady Jane." He gestured at the bed and sat in the chair, folding one leg underneath him.

She stepped closer to the bed, took of her shoes and sat down cross-legged.

"So?" He said, his tone almost colorless. "What are we drinking to?" He lifted his bottle of beer and looked at Jane, curious.

She looked down. "So… To the most mysterious secrets of the universe." She said, raised her sight and her bottle as well.

"Very well." He said simply and took a sip. Jane, realizing she was rather thirsty, gulped down a good third of the bottle content at once and sighed. When she laid her gaze upon him once again, she found she was being watched with a great curiosity. She bit her lip and smiled, then looked over her shoulder and viewed the large photograph of the mysterious nebula on the wall behind her.

"I'll probably sound like a complete ignorant now, but what is it? I mean, some shapes seem familiar to me, but…" she gestured with her hand to help the unspoken words out, but in vain.

"Mm." he took another sip. "What's your guess?"

Jane shifted in her position to have a better point of view. "It looks – it reminds me of the Helix in a way, but then again…" she swayed back and forth. "It has some features of the Rosette."

He remained silent, and just blew lightly into the bottle neck, making it resonate. Suddenly she turned to him, eyes wide. "Is it..?"

"Precisely." He purred, entertained. "Both of them."

"I knew it." She smiled and bent forward to have a look at the opposite, lower corner of the poster. "_Little Prince's Home, by L.W._" she read aloud. "Nice."She judged. "Can I ask for one, too?" she pleaded, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"That depends if lady Jane has been a good girl."

She half-smirked, half-opened her mouth to speak up, but then sat back, leaning her side against the wall with the picture. "That depends on who's asking."

"Hm." He smiled faintly, and brought the other knee up and rested his cheek on it. "Have I done something bad?" he asked, his look all but startled and innocent.

"Maybe."

"Oh. I'm rather anxious." He raised his head and leaned back, his toes wrapped around the seat's edge. "Do tell."

Jane cleared her throat and looked down. _Don't you dare bring this up. Don't..!_ "I've been told," _Crap_. "that you're quite fond of welcoming ladies in this room. Is it true?" she tried, twisting the bottle in her hands.

He let out a short laugh, which made Jane look at him askance. "Seems like Mr. Barnes wishes for another little talk with me." He said.

"The receptionist? He seems to like talking to everyone." Jane added, smiling lightly. "But the question is – where's the truth?"

"And what do you think, dear Jane?"

"I asked first."

He studied her for a while before answering. "You want the truth?"

"Nothing else."

"So be it." He smirked. "Do you remember certain Miss Lewis appearing at your front door in the night last Friday? Or Saturday, more precisely."

"What?" Jane moved forward, snorting in disbelief. "It was… I mean, I wondered where she had gotten that drunk. And more importantly, with whom." Tilting her head inquisitively, Jane slithered closer.

"Um," sounded Leonard, raising a finger carefully. "I fear it was with Tek and me. Here. Actually, Tek fell asleep very soon, leaning against that cabinet… Around midnight, I think. So it was just me and Darcy, then."

A sudden wave of uneasiness flooded Jane's chest. "I see." She uttered, trying to maintain an unaffected tone. "But…" confused, she furrowed her eyebrows. "She got home, in the end." Jane murmured and paused.

"Apparently."

"She could not even talk." Jane shook her head and snorted, reviving the memory. "So I did not even try to ask her what had happened."

"I assume she wasn't too talkative the next day, either."

"No, she wasn't." Jane agreed somewhat bitterly. "To be honest, I didn't make many attempts to make her explain it… Which taxi driver took her home, by the way? They just let her literally hang on the doorknob."

"Um," Leonard pursed his lips and rubbed the back of his head.

"It was you?"

"And what if I was?" One dark eyebrow went slightly up.

"_You_?"

"Well – what I was to do? I wasn't even able to hold the mobile phone, let alone dial a number!" he waved his hand to support his defense. "Moreover, she started bringing up… certain topics." he dropped his stare with a hint of a smile, clutching his toes at the edge of the seat. "So I knew it was the high time for her to go home." Silence. "See? It wasn't even the whole night." He added then. "There's nothing to accuse me of."

"_Certain_ topics?" Ignoring his last remark, Jane asked and leaned back against the wall, bringing the bottle to her lower lip.

"Yeah."

"Please, elaborate."

"Let's see," he sighed, buying some time. "Certain… Pleasurable activities."

"Such as..?"

"Sex." He said simply, seemingly accepting the challenge and not willing to surrender. After finishing his beer in one gulp, he viewed her, curious about her next step.

Lowering her eyes, Jane swallowed and remained silent. Well, it wasn't that shocking after all, right? She knew what he meant from the start. It was just him voicing it…

"Please correct me if I'm wrong, but," finally, she began in a slightly unsteady voice, "_that_ made you want to bring her home?" she looked in his eyes. "That's rather unexpected. Maybe even high-minded."

He looked briefly at the table desk, then grabbed a black pen and started toying with it mindlessly. "I don't know what it was," he replied, "But there's a golden rule one should better not forget."

"That is?" She asked and took a sip.

"No sex with drunk women." He said frankly, and putting on a sweet, cunning smile, he looked up.

As the weight on her chest disappeared with each heart-beat, Jane smiled and adorned her face with a blush. Licking her lips, she drummed her finger nails on the bottle surface.

"Okay." She said, faltering lightly. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You better." He murmured back.

And then, Jane really did not know what to say. For a moment she was not even able to look at him. But eventually she did - grinning widely and unable to stop the progressing blush. "Don't worry. No 'certain topics' on the horizon." She reassured quietly.

"Oh. I'm relieved." Not looking at her, he replied somewhat hoarsely, smiling and rotating the pen on the desk as if it was the most urgent thing in the universe.

"That's good to hear." Feeling as if the wall behind her transformed into a heating, Jane looked down.

The weight of the electrifying silence that followed was unbearable. Letting her eyes wander around the room, Jane stirred in her position and sighed deeply.

Leonard cleared his throat. "So. Any other suggestions?"

She bit her lip, thinking about what to reply and how. She was sure her voice would fail her. Still, something must have been said. "Yes." Finally, Jane cleared her throat as well. "One suggestion. Perhaps you could stop fiddling with that pen for a start."

"Sorry." He smiled apologetically and tossed the thing back onto the desk, which action caused the screen saver of his laptop to disappear.

"Hey! What's that?" Jane woke up suddenly, stood her bottle on the nightstand and jumped to her feet.

"What?"

"That!" Getting closer, she pointed at the screen. "That's Wolfenstein! So no calculation!"

"And?" he asked innocently, rocking in his chair. "If I recall correctly, you haven't come for any kind of inspection. Right, Dr. Foster?" smiling slyly, he fired back.

"Yeah, so firstly, don't call me that." She crossed her arms and drew nearer.

"Call you what?" He teased, folding his arms, too, and swayed back a bit more.

"You know very well." she murmured, leaning back against the desk.

"Oh, do I?"

"Yes. And stop rocking in that chair." she commanded.

"That was 'secondly'?"

"No, that was a little side-note." Biting on her lip, she looked at the chair legs and wrapping her ankle around one, she made the chair rock forward.

"But it looks like you really mean it." Not letting his eyes off her, Leonard decided to give in and let the chair fall slowly to the original position. "Are you really that worried about my safety?"

"No! Er, I mean… I just don't like rocking in the chair. In general. That's all."

"I see. And what is 'secondly' then?"

"Secondly," she said, turning around to grab the ice-cream box, "the main thing is that you lied to me." She continued, putting the spoon in her mouth. "You said," she mumbled then, "That you're currently working on the calculation, right?"

"Right. But aren't you a bit brash, Dr. Foster?" he asked, darting a meaningful look at the ice-cream box in her hands.

"Am I?"

"Yes. Plus, there's still someone's unfinished beer on my nightstand. Sounds familiar?"

Jane shrugged. "Well, um… I've just spotted an unfinished ice-cream on your table, so I decided to help with this one first." She said in an innocent voice and plunged another spoonful into her mouth. "One thing after another."

"Hm." He cleared his throat and shook his head. "All right." He chuckled, seemingly giving up.

"Well, Mr. Wednesday. Don't think you're going away with this. Justify yourself." Jane prompted, smiling and licking the spoon.

Sighing deeply, Leonard moved his finger over the touchpad, making another window pop-up. Tiny white letters were shining on the pitch-black background. "See, ma'am?" rolling his eyes in Jane's direction, he tapped his fingers against the keyboard. "The ideas are not springing up in my brain in a continuous manner, so I enjoy killing a few Nazis in the meantime. Ergo I was not lying about this or about anything else. Here we go – Leonard Wednesday, justified. Dot." He declared and looked at her, waiting for an answer.

"Sounds reasonable." Jane shrugged and looked at the screen, inspecting the calculation layout. "Hm."

"What is it?"

"Just… No, that's okay." Jane blurted out suddenly. "Nothing work-related, right? And it looks pretty fine, so, um… May - may I hear a commentary to the pictures above us?"

"Which ones exactly?"

"Uh... all of them..? Please?" She asked and smiled, putting down the ice-cream box. "Sorry. I hope I haven't eaten half of your dinner." She chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so tragic about that." He said and helped himself to the ice-cream as well. "Tek is supposedly working on the best-quality Indian food I ever had, so… No worries, I won't go to the bed hungry."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He said, licking the spoon and placing his intense gaze upon her once again. Jane just smiled in reply.

"So, where would you like to begin?" Leonard asked and got up.

"Well – " Jane shrugged, embracing herself, and looked up to have a more detailed view of the charcoal drawings attached to the wall in front of her. "Are these yours? I mean, did you draw them?" she asked, pointing at the precise captures of town buildings, people in the streets, trees in bloom, and a picture that looked like a view from a very large window.

"No, I did not." Leonard sighed, putting his hands in the pockets. "I received them as a gift."

"From whom?" Jane asked, her mind searching for occasions when possibly a guy receives pictures from another guy.

"From a very good friend." Said Leonard calmly, putting on that little roguish smile.

"The one who would have wanted to marry me?" Jane offered, smiling lightly.

"Ah… No, I think this one wouldn't – Actually, I'm not sure how this person would react to you." He replied.

"What do you mean?" Jane asked, and that heavy, bitter blossom unfolded within her chest once again. For some reason, she felt as if everything had just shattered and fallen down in piles of rubble. She snorted internally at her own foolishness.

_Of course he brought Darcy home._

She bit her lip and held her head up, inspecting the photographs, looking for _that kind_ of picture. With him holding a strikingly beautiful, fashionably dressed, tall and slender woman by the waist. His girlfriend. Blonde or a brunette? Or red? Her eyes flew over the photographs in a second, almost as though she was afraid to raise any suspicion. And well, perhaps it had been a too short moment to find anything particular, but Jane was quite sure she hadn't found anything that could have resembled a girlfriend. Or she wished so.

Taking a breath, she stepped closer to one of the drawings and looked for any sign of a name or an indication of…

But then she found it. A sign that belonged to the Chinese or Japanese alphabet. And below it – "_Mr. White_?" she read the charcoal signature, grabbing a snippet of hope. "Is it his name? Or – pen-name?"

"Both. In a way."

_So they might be a guy after all._ "Oh Lenny, stop being so mysterious." Jane peeked over her shoulder, putting on a little, hopeful, teasing smile.

"Stop calling me that, Dr. Foster." Declared Leonard, folding his arms in front of him.

"Hey!" Jane retorted impishly, turning around. She stared into his joyful eyes for a moment before pricking her forefingers into his ribs.

Seemingly unprepared, he let out a rather cute chuckle, and caught her wrists reflexively. "Now, that was pretty unfair, Miss Foster. And uncool." He said.

"No, it was well-deserved." Jane objected, her heartbeat drumming in her ears as he loosened his grip but refused to let go.

"So, uh – who's Mr. White?" she asked, lowering her eyes.

"His name is Shiro." He said softly, letting her hands slip out of his, brushing a thumb over the edge of her wrist. "As a regular word, it means 'white'."

_Okay. Guy confirmed._ "He seems to be a very sensitive person." She noted.

"Interesting thought." He mused aloud, running a forefinger over his chin. "He usually draws when he feels pissed off."

"Ah." Jane smiled. "And why did he give these pictures to you? To remember him?"

"Perhaps." Leonard shrugged. "He'd done plenty of similar drawings. I think he rather wanted to get rid of them."

"Surely not." Jane assumed, and viewing the pictures, she sat on the bed. Her sight focused on the photographs on the wall above. Closer to the bed, there were pictures of the Greenhill family members, the largest one a family photograph with all three children, little Anya being just a baby. A series of various snapshots from their everyday life encircled the big photo - Jane had to smile at a winter picture of Leonard sitting propped against a huge snowman, with Anya in his lap and Lena and Daniel snuggling against him from each side. She snickered and got to her knees to have a closer look. It was quite unbelievable how good-looking Leonard had been, even when wearing a green, knitted winter cap, the long tresses of his hair framing his face.

"What is it?" He asked, coming closer and snatching the abandoned bottle of beer from the nightstand.

"Nothing." Jane grinned widely. "This picture is just…" she shrugged, raising her hands palms-up, "Incredibly adorable. That's all." Jane explained and turned to him.

"Mm." he sounded, taking a sip.

"Mr. Wednesday, this is mine!" she protested playfully, reaching out. He dodged her movement easily and swallowed, keeping the smile in place.

"I know, _Dr. Foster_." He teased and then let himself be hit with the pillow. "Wait! I am merely returning the favor." He protested, a wide smile brightening his features. "You know – your little help with the ice-cream."

"Ah! Yes, of course." She pretended to suddenly remember the situation, then folded her legs under her and leaned back against the wall. She then seized the pillow and rested it on her lap.

She raised her head up to the pictures once more. There were larger images higher on the wall, and the family photographs started to mingle with pictures of other people; friends and schoolmates, Jane guessed.

Her stare stopped at the three largest photographs at the top of the wall-gallery. The first showed three companions standing around a huge stone with metal plaques. And unmistakably, one of the guys was Leonard, wearing a simple black hoodie and dark jeans; his hands in pockets and the dark hair bound in partial ponytail. In front of him, propped against the stone, stood a man considerably shorter. His shoulder-long, raven hair was wavy, but Jane felt it was rather unnatural, since the guy clearly was of Asian origin. _Oh, could it be Mr. White?_ And clearly, it must have been one of the friends she had spotted once on the desktop of Leonard's laptop, as the man standing on the other side of the stone. That one wore a brown leather jacket and jeans, and there was a white scarf wrapped around his neck. His incredibly long, blonde hair ran down his arm and side, the ends glittering in the sunshine. And his figure, his beard, his eyes, the hair color, the confident and joyous expression… It all reminded her so strongly about Thor she found it rather disturbing.

"In person or in photograph, he always wins all the girls' attention." Leonard murmured and sat down beside the bed, propping his elbow on it.

"Ah – " Jane opened her mouth and blurted out a nervous laugh. "The blonde one? Well, he just... He reminds me of someone I knew." She explained.

"Now, does he?" Leonard asked, quite intrigued. "And who was that, if I may ask?"

"An old friend." Jane replied, studying her entwined fingers. "We, uh… we met by chance when he was on a… on a journey. Yes. And he stopped here for a few days." She went on, trying hard to keep her tone as natural and relaxed as she could. She looked into his eyes. There was something like a little light, some kind of expectation.

"But I'm afraid I don't know much about him." Dropping her gaze eventually, she concluded.

"What was his name?" he asked very quietly.

Jane stared blankly at the pillow surface, struggling to hide the sudden panic. This was the first time someone asked her about _his_ name. But there was the restriction. She was forbidden to talk about anything related to the mysterious events that had taken place in this city three years before.

She cleared her throat. "Donald." She peeped eventually, clutching her fingers to stop them from fidgeting, and inhaled. Then she remained completely still and just raised her eyes to check if this answer had been accepted. And she found that Leonard was frowning and rubbing the neck of the bottle with his thumbnail. He looked up and their eyes met. And as soon as the first wrinkle appeared at the corner of his eye, they both burst into a merry chuckle.

"Ehm – " said Leonard, wiping his mouth with the wrist, "This definitely fits a person who looks similar to Bret." He coughed lightly and displayed a sly smile. "Perhaps I should try calling him that. I'm sure he would love it."

"Bret?" Jane awakened. "Could it be the one who likes harsh music? As you told me once?"

"Yeah, that's him." Leonard sighed.

"I see. And where is that place?" Jane asked, gesturing at the picture. She recognized some signs on the stone, but she could not read the letters.

"Norway." He answered simply.

"No way!" Jane exclaimed and smiled as soon as she realized she clearly had managed to make him laugh.

"Yeah." He nodded then. "Bret has a part of his family there so he invited us there last summer break. We stayed for two weeks, made lot of trips… Great country. Generous and friendly people, everyone speaks English, beautiful nature… Makes one feel at home."

"That's not fair!" Jane whined in response. "I always wanted to go there. I'm so envious!"

"Not fair?" he repeated, raising the eyebrows. "But it is hardly my fault you haven't been to Norway. Wouldn't you agree... Dr. Foster?"

"Stop calling me that!" she commanded, frowning half-heartedly and hugging the pillow. But the frown was difficult to keep in place, since the scent from the pillow that reached her senses was… She could not describe it at first. It was basically a mixture of shampoo and sweat, but she loved it. Jane struggled hard not to bury her face in the fabric right in front of his eyes, but noted to herself to do that later, at the first opportunity. _Jane, you're going crazy… Oh, whatever._

"Uh – and what kind of stone was it?" She resumed the talk, urging her brain to choose the first indifferent question available.

"To be honest I don't have a clue what type of rock it was, but – sorry… " he paused and smiled apologetically at her meaningful scowl. "It's the memorial at the Norwegian side of the Old Svinesund bridge, which goes over the border fjord between Norway and Sweden." He explained calmly, in his usual soft tone.

"I see." Jane nodded, not knowing what exactly to say. "And," she began after a silent moment, "the shorter guy – is that Mr. White?"

"Correct." He agreed, then cleared his throat meaningfully. "To be more precise: on the left – meet Mr. Bret Larsson; on the right in front – Nakamune Shiro-san. And... I think you might have seen the third guy somewhere." He muttered finally.

"Yeah." Jane nodded, narrowing her eyes at the picture, pretending to study Leonard's appearence there. "Probably I have. On the TV I think. He's quite famous, you'd be surprised." She added with a little smile and turned to him, curious about his reaction.

"Yes, you're right." He straightened, playing his part, his expression turning serious and thoughtful. "I remember now." He brushed a finger over his chin, his eyes narrowed as well. "Isn't he that genius super-villain wanted in over fifty countries?"

"No doubt he is." Fighting the widening smile, Jane viewed him, trying hard to sound serious.

"Hm. Then it must be very dangerous to stay anywhere near him." He stated slyly, resting his chin in his hand, propping the elbow on the bed.

"Well," Jane shrugged, studying the pillow surface. "Nothing for regular mortals, I guess." She said and bit her lip upon noticing she made him smile once again. "So, um – the next picture is from Norway as well?" She asked then and looked at him. And he stared back. His eyes were curious, clear and intense. It seemed like he was hesitating; reflecting on something important. Then finally he blinked, looking down.

"Yes." He muttered and lifted his sight up to the picture rather reluctantly. It was a beautiful landscape, capturing high mountains surmounted with snow and a crystal-clear, blue lake in between.

"That's Jotunheim." He said and turned to look at her.

"Ah…" she opened her mouth blankly as a fish, getting all stiff. "It's… Almost unbelievable such a place is located on Earth." She breathed out finally.

He watched her with a hint of suspicion for a moment; then focused on the picture again. "Yes. A wondrous place, indeed. Home of the giants…" he sighed.

"Perhaps I should make something like a summer break this year, too." She repeated his sigh, pinching the pillowcase, relaxing a bit. "But tell me, what's the last large photo about?" Jane asked, raising one eyebrow.

"And what does it look like?" he said and twitched the corner of his mouth. "Just me and friends." He mumbled into the bottle before taking the final sip.

"Yeah, but…" Jane acknowledged, inspecting the picture. There was Leonard, in line with other four people. Two of them Jane recognized as Bret and Shiro. They were all holding by the shoulders, something like a group-hug, their faces beaming with enthusiasm and exhaustion at the same time. They were all sweating - Bret's face was a bright shade of pink-red, few strands of his golden hair stuck to his face, one tress hanging in the corner of his mouth. Leonard's hair was loose and tousled - in quite a similar condition as Shiro's. The Japanese guy appeared to be shirtless, the sweaty skin reflecting the lights, and wore a folded bandanna with the Japanese military flag motif on his forehead with two drumsticks tucked in it at the back of his head. The background was dark, but the scene seemed to be illuminated by intense lights.

"But where is it? You look like standing... on a stage?" Jane wondered, creasing her forehead. "Yes, it's definitely – Oh. Wait! You have – you have a band?" she beamed, turning her eager stare to him.

"Huh." His lips curled into an evasive smile.

"What? I didn't hear you." Jane chirped, slithering closer.

"Mhm." He coughed. "Something of… that sort. Yes." He went on, murmuring.

"Hey! That's pretty awesome!" Jane marveled and leaned back against the wall again, cuddling the pillow tightly and finally taking the chance to dig her nose into it.

"Is it?" he looked up, lightly amused. "And is there any chance I'll get my pillow back this evening?"

_Busted. _"That depends." Jane tried, burying her face even further in order to hide her blush. "But don't think you're going to gloss over it! You're telling me more. Now." She murmured into the fabric.

"There's actually not much to talk about." He waved his hand and let out a sigh. "Bret and Shiro both had studied at Berklee before, so… They are quite experienced in this field. When we moved to our apartment they started practising together; then invited a bass player – that weird guy with long dreadlocks," he said, glancing at the photo "and gradually it evolved into, let's say regular performances in a nearby pub... I just made a fatal mistake to participate once. And since that time Bret insisted I joined them." He recounted, inspecting the dull pattern of the carpet. "He wanted to return to Berklee after the first year at MIT. He had been accepted actually." Leonard shook his head, letting out a rather bitter sigh.

"But?"

"But I… We had a talk."

"You persuaded him not to go there?"

"Well…" Leonard stopped her swiftly, "In a way. I promised not to waste my talent if he was going to stay. And he accepted it."

"I see." She said softly, cradling her chin in her palm. "So, Bret's the guitarist?"

"Yeah. Excellent."

"Then… You're the vocalist, right?" she smiled roguishly.

"Yes." He answered, giving her a quick, sly glance. "And no, I'm not going to perform anything right now."

"Aw! What a pity. But then I'm forced to keep your pillow as a compensation."

"Okay." He let out a soft laugh. "I'll ask the landlady for another one, then."

"Yeah, you should. But tell me," she began, shifting into a more serious tone. "Why are you so – I don't know – hesitant about it? I mean, having a band, that's amazing! You seem to be kind of insecure, or uncomfortable with it… But you appear to have had the time of your life." She pointed out, glancing at the photograph.

"Well, it _is_ exciting in a certain fashion, but above all it is a complication. Or was. First of all we don't even have a stable line-up. Not to mention that Bret and I were just distracting each other."

"Distracting?"

"Mhm." he dropped his eyes, his voice getting quiet. "He always wanted to devote himself to music. It was his original goal, his lifelong dream. And I kept him from chasing after it by making him stay at MIT." He snorted. "Which meant reminding him constantly about the lectures and making him learn for the exams… And the other way around, this whole thing was always keeping _me_ from my duties. So we just ended up stuck in the middle; in between those two points, doing neither of the things properly." He explained, his hands moving and gesturing to support the speech.

"Well," Jane intervened, snorting slightly. "Excuse me if I'm wrong, but what exactly you find improper on your studies? You got the degree just like that," she snapped her fingers. "And now you're a postgraduate with a very promising future. You're a major – no, a crucial part of this project, and now you're even supported by Stark, which…" she waved her hands, "I mean, what else do you want? And even if Stark's going to be interested in something else again and leave, I can hardly imagine a better experience. The doors of every company or institute that aims on physics and technology are open wide for you."

"Yeah. Amazing, isn't it?" He replied with a shadow of sarcasm, breathing out lengthily, and bowed his head. "It all just cost me a lot of energy, though. It wasn't as easy as you depict it. I didn't want to disappoint in the first place. And I was afraid I would."

"Who would be disappointed?" Jane shook her head in confusion, frowning.

"Mike and Julie. And the kids. They were so proud when I was selected for the research fellowship at CERN at first." He murmured into his palm, leaning against the bed again. "They were even planning for the trip there."

"Oh!" Jane cut in. "I see! And now they were forced to visit the boring New Mexico instead of Europe? Do I get it correctly?"

"It's not the case." He replied, a shadow of nervousness and exasperation flowing through his tone.

"Isn't it? Are you sure? Well, maybe they should realize that you have your own life."

"Yes, Dr. Foster? Do I?" He snapped, giving her an irritated, angry look. "Then could you perhaps tell me what kind of life it is? Or was?"

"Well, I'm sorry but… You should be allowed to do what _you_ want. Not just…" she shrugged. "I mean, their late son gave MIT a try as well, am I right?"

"Yes, but I can't see any connection here." He murmured indifferently, looking elsewhere.

"You can't?" Jane reacted. "I actually think that there's a connection of a _great_ relevance. The fact that they helped you doesn't mean that you should fill his place in return."

"I'm in their debt!" he objected, staring at her almost accusingly.

"With your life?" she leaned in, raising her eyebrows. "I thought that saving one's life and a general charity is something natural, something that does not require to be repaid!"

"They have done a lot more!"

"Yeah, because they wanted – "

"Would you _please_ stop analyzing it?!" he exclaimed suddenly, his voice so strong and adamant it nearly startled her.

And she just sat there, unmoving, watching him. This was the first time he shouted at her. And it was unpleasant, almost humiliating. His stare was very firm and pressing; she had no idea how much authority he could summon from the undiscovered lands of his personality. She felt like a disobedient child. During a long moment she was completely unable to break the eye-contact, but eventually, she dared to blink.

And realizing all her previous words and their real meaning, she let out a baffled, desolated breath and looked down. "I'm sorry, Leonard." she uttered silently. "I shouldn't say those things, I – I'm deeply, terribly sorry. I didn't want to offend you or your family."

Silence.

"No." he said at last, dropping his look as well. "_I_ am sorry, Jane. I didn't mean to raise my voice at you. Actually - you may think more about the words you say the next time, but in fact I fear… " his voice trailed away.

Jane looked at him immediately. She knew what he was about to say. The truth hurts the most, after all. Indeed. "No. No, it's my fault," she said promptly, her voice quiet and soft. "I'm not too skilled when it comes to communication with other human beings, you know. Some things just shouldn't be touched. Certainly not in this way." She viewed him intently for a long, quiet moment.

"Therefore," Jane chose to break the silence first, "I'm afraid... that I'll have to return the pillow. I'm a bad girl, I don't deserve to keep it." She tried and bit her lip.

He nodded, the perfect poker face in place, his forehead lightly furrowed. "I'm glad I didn't have to say it first."

"Mhm." She smiled, observing his softening features with great relief. He remained silent, just returning the look, the intriguing twinkle of his stunning eyes ignited once again. Her smile widened into a grin as she lowered her stare.

"Did you bid farewell to your long locks, by the way?" she murmured, darting a quick sideways look.

"No." he said simply, removing the rubber band that held his hair together, and ran the slender fingers through the dark tresses. "Is there any particular reason?" he asked nonchalantly and smirked.

"Oh, there is. The poker game tomorrow. Tony Stark included. And maybe Eric – Eric is very good." Jane stressed out, raising the forefinger. "There's that bet, have you forgotten?"

"Of course I haven't. But still, I cannot see any reason to get worried about my hair." He stated calmly, viewing one raven strand clasped between his fingers.

"I really wouldn't be that sure." Opposed Jane.

"I would." He claimed softly, placing his green stare upon her.

Jane bit her lip, but before the little banter could evolve into anything less or more, they heard a series of knocks on the door. Jane straightened with a start, turning her head after the sound.

"Tek?" Leonard asked loudly, not standing up.

A muted laughter filtered through.

Leonard glanced at Jane, frowning. "Who is it?" he called, jumped to his feet and took two steps toward the entrance. Halting mid-step, he tilted his head and listened.

Then someone literally pounded on the door. "Police! Open the door!" a strict voice demanded. Strict as it was, it still sounded quite familiar. Leonard stepped closer and wrapped his fingers around the doorknob. He bent forward and then opened the door carefully, creating just a thin slit. A row of teeth and incredibly white eyeball shone from the outside. "Hey! Hope you're hungry, dude."

"Tek?" Leonard asked in disbelief, still frowning. "Who's with you?"

"You shouldn't be so hesitant to obey the commands of the men of law, my lad." Tony's voice halted any further questions as the man pushed the door open, staring confidently. Jane was not sure if she should try and hide behind the cabinet attached to the bed or jump to her feet.

"Stark?! You brought Stark?" Leonard scolded Tek, viewing him with sheer disbelief and irritation.

"Hey man, calm down! I met them right there, before your door, that's all." Tek shrugged, his hands sneaking into his pockets. "Ah! Hi, Janey!" he called merrily upon noticing her.

"What's that? We have an intruder!" Stark, currently wearing a very fashionable black tux, replied instead of Jane, pointing at her.

"What intruder?" Jane frowned.

"We said no women..!" Tony arched one eyebrow at Tek, whispering heatedly.

"Tony!" a soft female voice rebuked. Jane smiled. _That's Pepper!_

"Ah! An intruder!" Leonard called in response to Tony's talk, pointing out the door at Miss Potts.

"This being doesn't count." Tony waved him off. "Ouch!" he protested after being hit with a white evening purse. "Well, dear, this was a clear display of domestic violence. Everyone saw that, right? You're not going away with it this time." He stated, pointing at Pepper, but got hit once more in reply.

"Want some help?" Leonard cut in, smiling as Pepper came into view, and reached out the right hand to take hers. "I'm very pleased to see you again, Ms. Potts." He added merrily. "Please, come in."

"Thank you." She beamed, shaking his hand. "Yes, it's been a while. But I think you can call me Pepper now. And I apologize, we must have disturbed you." She went on, stepping forward and looking at Jane who got to her feet at the remark.

"No, that's okay! I was actually about to leave." Jane explained, approaching the tall woman in beautiful, short white dress. And standing right in front of her, Jane realized once more how tall Pepper was; the high heels making the height difference even more significant.

"Now, were you?" Pepper asked in her cheerful voice, knitted her eyebrows together and tilted her head in suspicion. Her lips twirled as she kept on smiling despite her doubt.

"Were you?" echoed Leonard. Was it a hint of disappointment in his voice?

"Yeah, I've left the shopping in the car. So – " Jane murmured nervously and rubbed at her temple. Being surrounded and inquired by those two Eiffel Towers made her feel too much like a little girl.

"And don't you want to eat the dinner with us?" Tek interferred, stepping into the room, followed by Tony. "I made a lot of food and these two have already eaten." He stressed out, gesturing at Tony and Pepper.

"Thanks Tek, you're too kind, but see… Darcy promised to cook something as well, so I'm afraid there's a portion waiting for me already."

"Hey!" Leonard exclaimed suddenly, frowning at Tony who was holding a cell phone, walking around the room and seemingly making a video. "What's that?" he asked, annoyed, and checked the outer side of the door. "There's no 'Gallery' sign on my door, Stark."

"No? But it should." Tony answered calmly, sounding not much interested in Leonard's complaints. "Five dollars admission minimum." He went on. "Seven with Jane Foster as a permanent exhibit. Or ten, if she wears bikini."

"Anthony!" Pepper exclaimed again, frowning wildly. "And stop this filming. What does it mean?"

"Sorry, no offence." Tony murmured, turning to Leonard. "Come on, Lo, gimme a smile." He commanded and held the smart phone up.

"Lo?" Crossing his arms, Leonard drew his brows together and cocked his head at the word.

"You don't like it?" Tony asked, somewhat surprised.

"No." Leonard shrugged, still frowning. "What makes you think I would?"

"Just… Doesn't matter." Said Tony, hiding his phone into a pocket.

For a moment, Leonard followed Tony's movements with confused eyes. "Uh… Important notice!" He shouted then, clapping his hands to draw everyone's attention. "Can someone finally tell me what the hell the meaning of this gathering is?"

"Ha! Wolfenstein!" Tony shouted enthusiastically as he approached Leonard's desk. And that seemed to be the only answer Leonard would get.

"Okay," Leonard puffed. "Seven dollars each." He stated firmly, crossing his arms and blocking the doorway.

"Well, actually I'm leaving." Jane peeped.

"Of course you're not, dear. Haven't you heard Mr. Stark? You're a permanent exhibit." Leonard aswered simply and leaned against the doorframe.

Jane blushed. "Don't make me do that." she muttered, stepping closer.

"Do what?" He asked, smiling knowingly, as his eyebrows went slightly up.

"Don't make me tell Tony that –"

"Tell me what?" Tony intervened, sneaking closer and leaning against the doorframe at the right angle to Leonard.

"He's ticklish. For a start." Called Tek, who was currently busy inspecting Leonard's CD and DVD collection. "Hey, I found '_Wrath of Khan_'. We can watch it after the game." He beamed.

Leonard stared for a second; then straightened warily. "Tek? You're finished." He retorted. "And what game actually?"

"Poker. Kind of foreplay before tomorrow." Murmured Tony, observing Leonard with a curiosity. "What do you say, Mr. Ticklish?"

"I have a work to finish." said Leonard, appearing somewhat reconciled with the raid that had been made on his room.

"It can wait." Jane offered, putting on a rather mischievous smile. Then she tilted her head in Pepper's and Tek's direction. They seemed to have a lively talk in front of the drawings. "I think they aren't going to leave anytime soon, anyway."

"Okay." Leonard sighed, resigned. "Well – you want to play here?" he asked Tony, slightly confused.

"My place, of course." Purred Tony, eyes narrowing in the usual, roguish manner. "We'll bring the food… And there's that spare tequila bottle. Two bottles, actually. Uh, " Tony paused to glance over his shoulder, "Pep feels quite uncomfortable around them, so I need your help with… you know, getting rid of their contents."

"Okay guys, I think I've received enough info for today." Jane twisted a bit, grinning and clasping her hands together. "So I think I'll be making tracks." She looked at unmoving Leonard sideways. "Obviously the gallery is closing so… Would you mind if one of your permanent exhibits leaves?"

"Certainly I would." He muttered, smiling softly. "But if you promise to come back, I shall release you this time."

"Uh, I believe Pep just called after me, sorry guys." Tony said promptly and slipped away. Jane was almost certain she saw him winking.

"Then, um – " Jane began, feeling the blood rush to her face, not able to meet Leonard's gaze, "I promise I'll return."

"Very well." his voice poured over her as he stepped aside and cleared the way. With her eyes still fixated firmly on the ground, she took two steps out. Then turned around and looked up. She could not see his features properly as the corridor was dark and he was standing against the illuminated background, but she could literally feel his stare.

"I'm really sorry about the things I said." She nearly whispered.

"Jane, you don't have to. Let's forget about it, shall we?" he spoke in an equally silent voice.

"Yes." She smiled, nodding her head quickly.

At that, he reached out, and ever so gently brushed a hair tress off her shoulder. The touch was fleeting and hesitant, almost as if he had panicked about his own action.

"Let me..." he began, his voice slightly hoarse, "Text me when you're home."

"Mhm." She nodded once more, brushing her fingertips over his as his hand was returning to his side.

"Because," he resumed, "I want to know what's happening with my precious exhibits."

"I will. Promise." She muttered quietly, not able to stop her smile from widening and the blush from blossoming on her burning cheeks. "Good night, Leonard."

"Good night, lady Jane. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." She breathed nearly inaudibly, then turned and walked to the stairs. He switched the light on for her.

Jane flashed him a blushed smile before descending the first step. He returned it, and as he did, Jane wondered if it was just her or the green of his eyes had just glimmered.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<em><br>_

_Feeling myself slip away  
>Silently dreaming awake<br>Hidden memories  
>Flooding back<em>

_I will not grow in the light  
>Until I pass through the darkest caverns of my heart<em>

_(Dream Theater; Bridges in the Sky)_


	11. The Fifth Interlude

I own nothing, of course. *sigh*

And I'd like to dedicate this to my dear friend, Anna. Thank you so much for your continuous support!

I hope you like it :) All of you! ;)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: The Fifth Interlude<strong>

_Lost  
>I hear footsteps overhead<br>And my thoughts return  
>Again<em>

_Like a child who's run away  
>And won't be coming back<br>Time keeps passing by  
>As night turns into day<em>

_(Dream Theater; Endless Sacrifice)_

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

A lonely man stood in the middle of a vast, barren room with the simple, beige-greyish walls around him and a cold floor under his feet.

A huge rectangle opening in the wall before him allowed the last reddish beams of the setting sun through. A mild evening breeze was coming along. However, his face was turned to the floor. His eyes were closed, as if meditating; and a tiny furrow marked the point between his eyebrows. Thick, black hair fell in his face, covering his sight like a dark curtain.

He was of a very lean, but well-built figure. His slender arms with precisely carved muscles and a metal chain around one wrist were tense; the hands plunged into the pockets of his jeans. Those were loose, deliberately tattered here and there, and together with a pair of perfect white sneakers and not too tight, not too loose grey t-shirt shaped his overall roguish look.

Suddenly, the young man sighed. Lightly, as a blow of the gentle breeze.

Shiro Nakamune was a thoroughly calm being. He kept mostly to himself, trying to avoid as many unimportant matters around him as possible, although he was always aware of what was happening. He was not inert; he just did not want to get involved. Simply and as a whole, he would describe his existence as peaceful. Sure, the people who knew him would disagree. And yes, they would be most likely right, since Shiro was practically leading several lives at once.

Why?

First of all, Shiro was an artist. He loved drawing, but his ultimate love had always been music. And it always had intrigued him that his parents had never understood this simple concept. No, they had not. And thus, he had been forced to become an outstanding, brilliant student of particle physics at MIT. Yes, _forced_ at first, but somehow… he had come to like it. Almost as much as he liked poker sessions. Because poker sessions meant money to him. And money meant possibilities. And last but not least, he was an addict. An absolutely devoted addict to his car, his precious Mitsubishi Lancer Evo VIII. Pitch-black, with venomous-green rims. His precious Miko.

He sighed again. The car stood just a few feet away from him, but today he refused to look at it. Because his usually cold blood went boiling just at the thought of the huge scratch on the door.

But it was not all that had bothered him that day. First was the morning incident in the lecture room. He had fallen asleep, yes. In the first row, okay. And maybe he had been snoring a bit… But come on, what had been all that fuss about?

And then the lunch. The course he had chosen had been rather disgusting, not to mention he had spilled some sauce on his favorite Loudness t-shirt. Then the shocking realization he had completely confused the days in which the homework should have been sent. And finally, the most terrifying, heart-stopping discovery of the scratch.

Well, all in all, Leonard had most probably named it just a few hours before. This day was totally fucked-up.

Shiro drew in a sharp breath, raised his stare up, to the ceiling, and chewed on the inside of his cheeks.

Today, he was not calm. Actually, he was very far from that. But what to do with it? There was such a rage inside him that even taking a seat behind his drums felt annoying.

No. He felt like destroying something. Yeah, throwing some huge electronic device out of the window could help. Strange feelings, really.

In the end, he exhaled slowly, hung his head and pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He sat down, lighted one, took in a lung-full of the tasty smoke, breathed it out and watched it mix with the orange sunlight. And so he just sat there, letting the taste roll on his tongue, allowing the raising smoke to take away his anger. In the end, he took the last drag and focused on the skyline before him: the setting sun casting long shadows, coming through the windows… Perhaps he finally understood why Leonard inclined to sit in the wide window, just watching this scenery. There certainly was something about it.

And there certainly was something about Leonard staring into the vast space like that. He always seemed like looking for something. A lost home? Yes, most likely. It was a sad true. And even more painful that there was not even a hint of a memory of that in his head.

Yes. Leonard Wednesday. Such a stranger. Such a riddle.

But well, Shiro loved riddles. The more complex, the more challenging for him, and the more entertaining. After all, he always needed to keep his unusual intellect occupied.

He never told Leonard about it, but ever since they had met, Shiro started working on solving this intriguing puzzle. And the more Shiro got to know his friend, and the more they experienced together, the more he felt he was coming closer and closer to something great, something unimaginable, something enormous that was waiting for him just to reach out and unveil.

Leonard was the strangest, the most fascinating person Shiro had ever met. His personality… everything about him was so unclear, so ambiguous. Leonard was an enigma altogether. Quiet, observant and watchful. Distrustful. But in contrast, he was giving an impression of a good person, yet at times it felt as though something dark were always looming over him. And his mind, brilliant and bright, was stunningly quick. His memory was outstanding - the load of data he could remember after perceiving them just once was enormous; not to speak of his ability to analyze and solve problems, and not only the purely logical ones.

And it was not everything. Not at all. Leonard's appearance alone, his look, his raven hair and twinkling green eyes, his pale skin – everything felt so strange, so unearthly. But still, too perfect. Like his voice. The way he could speak… Yes, there was another thing that rather troubled Shiro. Because he was quite certain that Leonard understood Japanese.

Yeah, maybe.

No, most likely.

And what about this extraordinary memory loss? It had lasted rather too long, hadn't it? Yet, there were the utter headaches and depressions that would hit Leonard from time to time… They seemed to come always after some disappointment, or whenever Leonard felt he was close to something from his past. Like back then, when he accidentally addressed Bret as "Thor". All those weird things flowed through Leonard's life, leaving him deep in thought, closed and frowning.

Yet again, he was never able to stay sad and silent for a long time. Especially when in a good mood, he was overly cheerful, sly and teasing. That was the real Leonard Wednesday. Mischief personified.

_Mischief personified_.

Shiro chuckled to himself. Well, if Bret was Thor, then…

His heart sped up.

_No. _

Shiro loved Norse mythology. He had read all the related books many times over. And as a child, for a million times he had wished Loki was real and took him once to a journey full of his tricks and riddles and adventure.

But no. There was an infinitely small probability that there was a place called Asgard somewhere amongst the stars. Let alone its random inhabitants falling down to Earth and forgetting about who they used to be.

Yet… _Yet!_

Shiro chuckled again, covering his face with his hands. Leonard had been found in the middle of nowhere, right? 'It was like I had fallen from the sky,' he told him once.

But… Shiro did not believe in supernatural beings, after all. No, Leonard was no Loki. It just was not true. However, if there were someone close to the god of mischief, it would be Leonard. Certainly.

Finally, Shiro glanced at the smoldering cigarette end. Then he turned it in his fingers and with a few swift movements, he drew two sings on the floor before him.

"_Shiroi kuro."_ He said, smiled slyly to himself and flipped the stub out of the window.

"_Yoshi!" _He breathed then, jumped on his feet and ran out of the room. Next instant, he was back with a paper and a piece of charcoal.

_Why have I never drawn this view before?_ He asked himself shortly before drawing the first line. _Anyway, this is for you, Loki._

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

The sound of music welcomed him as Leonard ascended the stairs and opened the door to the elevated parking lot. He was expecting his roommates practising, though, and not the artificial sound coming from the radio inside the poor scratched black car.

A well-known figure was sitting cross-legged on the floor, illuminated by the very last bits of daylight, inspecting a charcoal drawing; his body moved minutely to the sound. A silvery tendril of smoke was sneaking silently up to the ceiling.

Shiro turned and grinned in greeting. "I've been expecting you." He said.

"Oh." Leonard nodded, his hands sliding into the pockets of his black pants. "Any special reason?"

"Yes." Shiro said, glancing out of the wide window and sucking in another portion of smoke. "And no." he breathed out.

It was almost dark outside, the streetlights getting on as the last remnants of sunshine tumbled over the roofs.

Leonard finally stood right beside his friend, viewed the drawing shortly, then noticed the signs on the floor. And then he got down and sat next to Shiro, folding his long legs underneath him.

"What are these?" he asked after a silent moment, his chin gesturing at the signs.

"We both know you know their meaning." Shiro pointed out eventually, offering a quick sideways glance.

Leonard blinked. And said nothing.

Yes, of course he knew. But what he had never known was that Shiro was aware. Anyway…

"Yes I do." He admitted then, his look twisting to the window and off to the deep-blue heights.

Shiro smiled again and shook his head. "No worries, I shall keep it just to myself, if it bothers you."

"Yeah." Leonard cleared his throat. "I guess it does."

Another portion of silence.

"They have quite a special meaning today, though." Shiro spoke at last, gesturing at the signs. "Anyway, what do you think of this one?" he asked and moved the paper towards Leonard. The latter took it and viewed it closely.

"Ah… Mr. White?" Leonard's eyebrows went up as he spotted the signature in the lower corner.

"Yeah." Shiro admitted. "I was just thinking about some fitting pseudonym…"

"So no longer the fourth son?"

"What? I never was – goodness, I have two sisters! I was named after my mother's father. The only thing she insisted on and won for me." Shiro explained and concluded, his head lowering slowly, the front hair strands hiding his face.

"I see." Leonard said quietly, not knowing what else to reply. The confession appeared to be rather a very personal one, and he was simply not used to this kind of talk from his short friend. He knew just the very basics about Shiro's family and had never investigated the topic unless Shiro himself opened it. And that seldom happened.

He waited if the little Japanese had anything left to say to the matter, and when the man remained silent, Leonard decided to switch the topic back to the picture. "And why do you want my opinion on this?" he asked, his eyes moving as he watched all the details.

Shiro tapped at his thin lips, the cigarette clasped between his slender fingers, and narrowed his almond eyes. "Why, it's… It _might_ be for you."

"For me?" Leonard could not help but smile, slightly and unexpectedly flattered.

"Maybe." Shiro corrected.

"Okay." Leonard pursed his lips and nodded his head a few times. "I'm just a little confused, but nevertheless, I like it. So," he grinned again, "if it by chance truly becomes mine I shall accept it happily." He declared and stole the cigarette from his friend's hand.

The smoke stung his lungs, and he could not stop a little cough after he breathed it out through the nostrils.

"Why do you insist on tasting it if you can't handle it?" Shiro frowned half-heartedly and snatched the stub back.

"I can." Leonard opposed.

"Hey. Just be glad you don't smoke. There's no need to start and become an addict."

"You're not addicted."

"No, I'm not. But I'm a special case."

"Oh. As with everything else. Shiro the Extraordinary."

The dark eyes narrowed once again. "Speak for yourself, Mr. I-Don't-Have-A-Clue-Where-I-Came-From."

"Hm." Leonard shook his head.

"Sorry." Shiro muttered after a portion of silence.

"Never mind." Said Leonard and rested his chin in his hand, propping his elbow on the knee. "So what's the condition for the drawing to become mine?"

"That's… confidential." Shiro smiled to himself.

"Come on!" Leonard whined and poked his friend's shoulder. "What is it? Tell me, please." He insisted, grinning widely. "Should I make the dinner? Or repair the scratch on Miko's door? Or find the idiot who did it and turn him into a slug?"

"Actually…" Shiro lifted his eyebrows. "The last option would be very convincing… But I guess I'll keep it for now. I want you to take it when we part."

"Ah. Well… Yeah, thanks." Leonard uttered eventually and shrugged his shoulders.

"You're welcome." Shiro chuckled shortly; then breathed in the smoke and threw the stub out of the wide window again. It turned dark outside meanwhile, and the lights of the traffic below were sliding over the ceiling and the walls around them.

"Are you nervous?" Shiro broke the silence then, viewing his friend sideways.

"About what?" Leonard asked, though he knew.

"About Saturday."

Leonard smiled, snorting lightly. "Should I?" he asked, eyebrows up.

"Should you..?" Shiro viewed him, irises glittering through the narrow slits between the eyelids.

"I can still back off."

"Aw. I don't think you would." Shiro slurred in a teasing voice. "You crave it. Just look inside your heart and you'll learn the truth."

Leonard kept staring deep in his friend's dark eyes, his expression unreadable. But then he chewed at his lips and grinned. "No, I wouldn't." he admitted then. "And what about you? How does the experienced musician feel?"

"I wish I could say that I'm used to it." Shiro sighed and looked out of the window, off into the night sky.

"Hey! We've been practising nearly the whole summer." Leonard pointed out, digging a friendly elbow into the smaller man's ribs. "Plus, you're by far the best of us - "

"Nah!" Shiro turned, making a face.

"Yes, you are. Hold your head up, my little friend." Said Leonard with a smile and wrapped his long arm around the other man's shoulders.

"Stop it. And I'm not little."

"Oh yes, you are."

"I'm just shorter than _you_!"

"Much shorter." Leonard corrected and raised a forefinger to silence Shiro's next demur. "Yet still, our spirits are equal."

"Hm. How nobly said." Shiro nodded his head with a half-hearted appreciation. "If only you knew my spirit, my good friend."

Leonard snorted a chuckle again. Of a more bitter kind this time. "If only I knew mine." He added quietly as his gaze wandered up to the dark space outside the window.

Shiro remained silent for a long moment. He hung his head, the moving hair strands tickling Leonard's forearm lightly. "Have no fear, _Onii-san_." He said at last. "No one does."

"How nobly expressed." Leonard observed then, the corner of his lips tugging minutely.

Shiro narrowed his eyes again. "For that I'll rest my head on your shoulder."

"Go ahead." Leonard beckoned.

And Shiro did.

For a time, they just watched the lights of the traffic below come and go. The first notes of '_My December'_ poured over the room, shifting the atmosphere to nostalgic and thoughtful. Letting his hand fall off Shiro's shoulder, Leonard leaned back and propped himself on his arms.

Then he cracked a smile. "I think I'm looking forward to the concert." He said. "There's a lot of work ahead this year. So I'd better enjoy myself while I can."

"Yeah." Shiro sighed. Then he straightened. "Any plans for the free morning tomorrow?"

Leonard shrugged. "Not really. Breakfast across the street… And then the library, I'd say."

"The library… What about the swimming pool?"

"No books in there."

"It's a _free_ morning, buddy."

"All right... But you pay for the breakfast."

"Nah!" Shiro rolled his eyes, but the smile was there.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

The soft, refreshing masses flowed over him, capturing and caressing and then letting go of his skin as they came and went by. And again. And again. The gentle, cold fingers stroked his body until he touched the wall of the pool and reached out to breathe. The fresh air filled his lungs as the water curtain flowed down and his vision cleared.

Leonard looked to the side when he heard another breath.

"Here you are!" Breathed Shiro and wiped his nose and eyes. "I almost got you this time. You're getting slow."

Leonard waggled one eyebrow. "Was it a challenge? Sorry, I haven't noticed." He mocked as he wiped the remaining water drops from his eyes. "Could have put some heart into it." He said as he completely shielded his view, which action spurred Shiro to leap across the line and immerse his friend into the water.

Leonard reached out from under the surface and held onto the handle just below the platform to heave them both up. "Sometimes you forget who's got the higher ground." He reminded, laid a hand on the top of the shorter man's head and plunged him down. However, Shiro's arm twirled around Leonard's neck with an extraordinary swiftness at the same moment. "Hey!" Chuckling, he managed to say just before he let go and disappeared under the water surface, too.

They reached out for the air bursting in laughter. Shiro looked around the room, examining the space for anyone's presence. "We're lucky to be alone I guess." Leonard observed.

"Hope so." Shiro said; then moved to the edge of the pool and not minding the metal steps, he got out of the water swiftly. "I suppose everyone would get it the wrong way." He shook his head, the droplets raining around him, and paced towards the bench for his towel.

Leonard followed shortly, but then he decided to stay in the water and just folded his arms on the edge and rested his head on his shoulder. "Is there anything wrong with us?" He teased with a smile. "I wasn't aware."

Shiro gave him a narrow glance as he dried his face, the droplets still falling from the tips of his hair and the edges of his black swim shorts. "Oh my. Shall I fear something in the showers?"

"Don't know. But whatever it is, I swear to protect you." Leonard purred mockingly.

"Please don't." Shiro snickered and began to walk away. "Ah. _Ohayou, Elliot-chan_!" He said just before he rounded the corner.

And the blood froze in Leonard's veins. Of all the people it must have been _her_.

A short, dismissive snort followed the greeting, and the expected figure of Elliot Hunter stepped into view, slender, graceful and beautiful as ever. She paced out of the small hall, and folded her towel onto the bench. She wore a simple black swimsuit that contrasted with her milky skin, and her long, jet-black hair reflected the morning light coming through the glass wall and was bound in a tight pony-tail. Luckily enough, she was looking down, focused and stern.

Leonard was not even thinking on greeting her. He was just stunned. He remembered the nightmarish weeks before the end of the summer term, when he had tried his best to avoid her, but still, they had attended the same course, so the daily encounters, if just at some decent distance, had been inevitable. He had made himself not to think about the unfortunate afternoon during the summer break, and truth be told, his friends had managed to somehow distract him from the unpleasant thoughts, but now… Right at the start of the new term, he had to endure it all anew.

As she approached, he felt the chill creeping at his back. As if the ice-cold hand of the other one in his mind wrapped its fingers around his heart and squeezed. The scene rose before him, he could see her desperate eyes, the fright marking her face, his fingers around her throat…

He wished he wasn't there. He wished he could move and sink into the water, but he could not. His body felt like petrified. All he could do was close his eyes slowly and hope the wetness on his skin would make him invisible.

She walked toward him, silently, without a word, her footsteps soft against the tiles. Leonard listened to the sound of her strides; he knew when she was nearest to him. His breath refused to come out of his lungs. She passed by. No reaction.

And his eyes shot wide open. No, this can't continue any longer. He would not succumb to this silent mockery of the monster within him. He had to act. He had to –

"Good morning, Elliot." He said.

A gasp followed. Three, four very slow and cautious paces back. Her face came into his view, emerging from behind the concrete of the platform. "Hey." She said, her face showing a bit of confusion and a considerable amount of panic. "I… wasn't aware you were here." She said quietly.

_Oh. Well…_

"Yeah, I… I'm sorry if I startled you. How…" his thoughts raced. Crap, if only he had some time to prepare a few reasonable words to say. "How are you?" -_Hopeless._

"Fine, I guess. Thanks." Her eyes roved nervously around the room. "You?" Not looking at him, she asked tensely.

And he did not answer at first. Rubbing his chin against his wrist, he closed his eyes and sighed silently, buying some time. "Listen," he said then, "I should have said it a long time ago. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to harm you – "

"Please – " she murmured, raising one hand defensively.

"It wasn't me." He continued nonetheless, just somewhat louder to make her listen. "I was not myself… I don't know what happened, but… It frightened me as well."

Silence.

"It frightened _you_?" she spoke then, her tone cautious but surprised. "Then maybe you should see someone to help you. I mean for real. A psychologist maybe." She offered quietly, carefully, and leaned against the platform. "Because… You know, I saw that, too."

"What?" he snapped his head in her direction, eyes wide and expectant.

"The change. Your eyes, your expression. It was as if someone flipped a switch. You were someone else in an instant."

"Someone else." Leonard echoed, his look dropping to the lazily rippling water.

"Look," she resumed, breathing out heavily, "I know you're not evil. That's why I haven't told anyone. But you should seek some help. Don't take it wrong, I'm not implying that you're crazy, but…" she made a helpless gesture, "I guess it must be hard to live with it. Let alone in your situation."

"It is." He admitted softly, turned away from her and ran a thumb over his lips. The next instant he sank under the surface for one last time, then propped himself on his long arms and got out of the water, swiftly as an otter. He loosened his pony-tail as he straightened, letting the rubber band thread on his wrist, and wrung the water out of his shoulder-long raven hair.

When he looked up he saw she was viewing him with something curious in her eyes. She smiled lightly.

"What is it?" he smiled back.

"You know," she began quietly, "lean guys like you should remember that the water makes the swim shorts too heavy."

Leonard looked down to find his hip bones exposed maybe a bit more than he had expected. "Ah. Sorry." He said and moved to the bench to pick up his green towel. "I hope I haven't scandalized you." He said, peeking roguishly over his shoulder.

"You have. But there's nothing to be sorry for." She admitted with a smile, still examining him closely, her gaze lingering just below the small of his back. "You're not going to pull them up, are you?"

"Why? I'm going to take them _off_ in a moment." He shrugged, smiling genuinely at her, satisfied to earn a flutter of eyelashes and a chaste blush.

"Just go, please." She grinned, folding her arms in front of her, and looked away.

"As you say, my lady." He said obediently, draped the towel over his shoulder and set off.

"Are you coming on Saturday?" He called suddenly from the small hall, turning around.

She stopped her walk toward the pool and thought for a second. "You're doing just the covers, aren't you?"

"No!" he frowned playfully, putting his hands on his hips. "We have two original songs as well." He blinked a few times as he looked up thoughtfully. "So far."

"Goodness!" She touched her heart. "Who wrote them?"

"Guys did the music, I wrote the lyrics." He said proudly.

"I see. Then perhaps I'll come around."

"You should. I'll be looking for you." He winked just before he turned back and headed to the showers.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

"How many I'll have to smoke?" Leonard asked, frowning at Bret through the smoke he had just exhaled.

"Hm…" Said the other man, rubbing at his beard.

It was the Saturday night and they had found themselves in the music club, shortly before their first performance. And just a tiny hall was separating them now from the stage.

There were six of them in this tiny, worn out room with windows sealed from the outside. The air around was heavy and filled with a hundred scents.

The old, large sofa and three armchairs covered in the chapped leather imitation were to blame for the fusty smell. The areas just below the ceiling implied that the walls had been a modest shade of blue once, but on the way down to the floor the paint had slowly lost its glory due to numerous scrapes and splotches of unknown and rather suspicious origin. There were signs and names and notes scratched there, majority of them unreadable as they had accumulated and overlapped throughout the years.

A poor, heavily scratched wooden table was standing defiantly in the middle, and a small, red fridge growled in the corner. In the chair that was closest to it sat Shiro, silent and reflective as ever, just his leg draped over the armrest disturbed the overall composed impression of him.

A young man with long dark dreadlocks was crouching before the opened fridge. "Bret, come on. He's not used to it." The man, Derek, murmured, not looking up, and tapped at the opened fridge door, studying the contents intently.

"Yeah. I'm more likely to lose my voice than improve it." Leonard pointed out, but took in another lungful nonetheless. He occupied one of the armchairs, too: he sat curled up in it, leaning his side against the backrest.

"Nonsense. You're never sick, you never had a cold. I wouldn't care about a few cigarettes." Bret insisted and made himself comfortable on the sofa.

"But what for? I still can't seem to get it." asked Jared, a tall, gaunt man standing in the doorway. His hair was dark and incredibly curly, his skin pale, his limbs long and skinny, his hands slender and graceful. The one who played classical piano in the daylight and metal in the night.

"His voice is too perfect. Smooth like a feather. We need to roughen it a bit." Bret explained, frowning thoughtfully.

"Yet still, it is _his_ voice. It's about his personality and his way of interpretation. I wouldn't change a thing." A man in the huge chair across the table objected. It was Joel, a true talent who had agreed to play the second guitar in the band. He was an heir of the blood of the Native Americans. His eyes were dark, deep and thoughtful. His straight, raven hair was longer than that of Leonard, and framed the softly cut features of his measured face. He wore black jeans and a vest, so his arms and chest were revealed. His left arm was heavily tattooed from the shoulder to the wrist. There were various motifs and things to find, entangled and mingled together in a mixed blur of blue and black; except for his shoulder, where a man with a long, wavy hair and a likable face was pictured. Under that picture, there was a ribbon with the name _Tommy Bolin_ on it.

"Whatever." Bret waved his hand then, and stooped over the tiny table to go through the set list once more. "You're a grown man, do as you wish." Giving Leonard a glimpse, he mumbled more or less to himself.

"Thanks." Leonard breathed out appreciatively. "But you know, if nothing else, there's something soothing about watching the smoke rise up."

"So, are you nervous after all?" Jared spoke again.

"No. Actually… No, I don't think so. I'm just curious, I'd say."

"Hey, Mr. Curious." Bret uttered, not looking up, chewing on his thumbnail. "What about the encore? Are you sure you really want these pieces?"

"Quite sure." Leonard smirked and at the smiling Jared. "Why?"

"Why... It's going to end in silence, then."

"Yes. Is it wrong?"

Bret shrugged. "I don't know."

"Every concert ends in silence." Shiro reminded, watching an indifferent point on the table desk.

"Oh. Was that a part of the Japanese wisdom?" The blonde retorted, creasing his forehead.

"No. Just a fact." With his eyes still focused on the unknown, Shiro explained calmly.

"Aww, no worries, Bret. You'll get your ovation for sure." Leonard teased, partly hiding behind the curtain of smoke, the ever mischievous smile in place as he watched his blonde comrade.

"Ah, shut up." Bret snapped, his eyes turning in Leonard's direction.

"For how long exactly?" The latter smiled sweetly. "And who says '_My December_' is going to be the last piece? Who knows, maybe the people will want more."

"Hm. That would be great." Bret coughed a little, then shook his head. "Anyway, I was just thinking… Maybe we should put one of our songs first. And the second one last."

"That's not a good idea." Joel raised his head, disapproving. "You can't warm the crowd up with something they don't know."

"Yeah…" the blonde admitted quietly, eyelids fluttering in thought. "Yeah, that's a good point."

"Bret, please." Leonard leaned over to put out the cigarette. "We went through the list a million times. Just stop fretting about it. Look at you! You seem to be the nervous one here."

"I know, right? I just… I'm still not sure about the interlude in the '_Endless Sacrifice'_. I vote for the short ver- "

"Stop it, Bret!" Leonard protested. "If you're not certain, Jared will take care of it. Haven't we discussed it, too?"

Bret glanced over his shoulder to view the lean pianist doubtfully. "Yeah… Well, perhaps we can lend him his five minutes of being famous, can we?"

"Five minutes? How generous of you!" Jared snorted, his eyebrows going up. "Tell you what. We all know I can do better than you two combined." He claimed, looking meaningfully at both Bret and Joel. "And I'm ready to prove it at any time." His face was blank and unreadable, but at the end of his statement, his lips tugged into a light smile.

"Was that a challenge, my boy?" Bret raised his eyebrows, his eyes sparkling at the prospect.

"First, I'm not your boy, and second - why not?" Jared folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "I always vote for making things interesting. Nevertheless," he peeked out the door and into the corridor, "We'd better go, the crowd's growing noisy."

"Just don't change the subject, man. You have it." Bret pointed with his forefinger, then slapped the armrest of the sofa and got up to his feet.

Following Bret's example, Shiro scrambled up from the wide chair lazily, and stretched his neck, back and arms as slowly and deliberately as a cat. "Noisy, are they?" He purred, squinting around the foggy room. "I'll show them what _noisy_ means..."

"Hey guys, who brought the drinks?" Derek called out suddenly. "I can see no tequila!" He complained, disconcerted, closed the fridge and straightened, too. "I was looking forward to it."

"No worries, we'll get you some later." Bret uttered, cracking a smile at last.

"All right." Leonard sighed and jumped to his feet as well. He moved to the door, but there Bret raised a hand against his chest to stop him.

"Hey. Where are you going?" he asked, raising one bright eyebrow.

"What?"

"What?!" The blonde echoed. "You're the cherry atop the cake, my friend." Grinning widely, he patted Leonard's cheek. "Hang on a minute. We go first." Bret said as he turned back to look at Shiro.

"Just step aside and watch the professional." The Japanese said with a smirk and fastened a black bandanna around his head as he walked over to them. Leonard just shrugged at that and made space for the guys to go through the door. He watched with crossed arms as they did, the crowd getting louder as they started to appear on the stage. Bret waited for the others to leave, and then, when the two of them stood alone in the doorway, he offered a sincere smile.

"Tell you a secret, bro. I'm nervous like hell." He admitted and ran a hand over his face.

"Tell you something, too. We all noticed." Leonard reassured as softly as possible in the noise.

"Yeah, it's… I just – I think that's how you feel when your dream comes true."

"Yes, I guess." True, Leonard could only guess. He could not tell if this was _his_ dream come true. He would have to find out yet.

The first sounds of Shiro making the real noise reached them.

"I'm counting on you, bro." Bret stated, looking Leonard firmly in the eye.

"Please, Bret. I might start feeling important. Just go, they're waiting."

"Yeah, I suppose." The blonde replied with a sigh, dropping his gaze. "Anyway… Thanks."

"For nothing." Leonard offered a smile and reached out to put his hand on his friend's neck. He shook him lightly. The blue eyes met the green. "You'll make it, Bret. I know it. Now go, I'll be along."

At that, Bret took a deep breath and obeyed. One last look and the tall blonde disappeared in the dark hall.

And Leonard was alone. Again. Sighing heavily, he moved to the sofa and leaned against the side of it. His head went down as his eyelids slid slowly shut. The corner of his mouth twirled up at Shiro tempting the audience with moments of virtuosity followed by silence.

In a flashing moment, he went through the set list. And he knew exactly how he wanted to perform each and every single one of the pieces. He realized each word of the lyrics, all the notes and sounds. Deep inside his mind, he had linked each song to something or someone. He realized the scenes from his life, the people and emotions he would think about. He could see it, imagine everything perfectly. Just one thing he missed… He wished he could summon her face, if only just for a second. But even if that was not possible anymore, he would think of her.

He smiled to himself as the guys kicked it off with a striking perfection. And he felt he could do it, too. The crowd resounded in appreciation as they recognized the intro to the first song. Leonard looked up and viewed his reflection in the window pane.

He chose a black singlet for this evening, and his favorite black pants hung on his hips. He was lean, not skinny. His loose, raven hair fell to his shoulders and framed his eyebrows and high cheekbones.

He had to admit to himself one thing. He looked good.

He _felt_ good. And he was aware what he had to do. He had to take this chance. Tonight, he would open his soul; he would let all the demons out – the insecurity, the anxiety, all the hidden fears and madness. He would bind all the spirits that came to listen, he would grip their imagination and show them worlds unseen, he would lay his mind and heart in front of them, he would let them see, he would let them taste. They would sail the night, fall through the darkest abyss and rise again to the endless sky. Like a king with his army, they would go through it all together.

He straightened and held onto the upper doorframe, and then bent forward to stretch the lean muscles of his long arms.

Just a moment longer… And then he knew his time had come.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

He was glad he did not have to take care of the stuff. In fact, it was just Shiro and Jared who kept some sense and went back again and gathered all the cables and the rest of their own equipment.

And Leonard was glad he could wash his dry throat with several good gulps of cold water. Then, somehow, a bottle of whiskey landed in his hand. And he gulped that, too.

He wished he could focus. On something, anything, it did not matter. But the experience he had just made was so much stronger. His senses were blurred and over-sensitive at the same time. His heart was racing against his breastbone, his breaths were shallow. It felt strange, so strange… But it felt wonderful. He felt so light inside. He wanted just to set off, spread the invisible wings and fly off into the sky, where he could reflect on all those emotions. Alone and undisturbed.

Or at least he wanted to run, fast, to some place far away and then fall to his knees and bury his hands into the mud and cry himself to sleep.

But in the end, he just fell, thoroughly exhausted, into the wide armchair. The leather imitation chilled the bare skin of his back, and his own sweat stuck him to the fabric.

The adrenalin pumped through his veins, and he realized one more thing. He felt like making love. Badly. For that matter, he chose to shift on his position and curl up, just as he had before. Just to be safe. Closing his eyes, he took another deep gulp and then clutched the bottle in his arms, pressing it against his bare chest as if trying to slow down his breathing and frantic heartbeat.

"Lenny?" Someone's voice called his name. But he could not open his eyes to look. He did not want to, anyway.

"Leonard! You okay?" The voice insisted. And Leonard realized he knew the person. It was Bret. Yeah, maybe. After that, Leonard decided to open one eye.

"Why, hello there." Bret grinned merrily, crouching beside the armchair. "How do you feel?"

"Strange." Leonard admitted quietly, clasping the bottle for dear life.

"Strange?" Bret snorted a surprised laugh. "What does it mean?"

"Dunno." Mumbled Leonard, still breathing heavily. "But I guess… It feels good."

Bret smiled toothily at that. "Yeah, it should. You were amazing, man. You made the people go insane. I mean – I knew you had something in you, but this was just ridiculous."

"Ridiculous, was it?" Leonard raised one curious eyebrow and sipped some more whiskey.

"You know what I mean. It was madness. Just wonderful; I wasn't expecting anything like that. You're just great, my friend. Just… please don't wrap your arms around me so tightly next time."

"Did I?" Leonard asked, slightly surprised.

"Yeah, somewhere at the end."

"Wait… I pressed my lips against your face, then, right?"

"Ah… Yeah, I'm afraid. I'm sure someone took a picture of it. They always do."

"Sorry. Didn't mean it." Leonard laughed, rubbing his eyebrow with his wrist.

"You're horny, aren't you?" Bret grinned wickedly.

"Terribly." Leonard admitted with a wide smile, wiping his eyes.

"Nah, that's pretty normal." The blonde reassured. "But you're more likely to fall asleep with this amount of whiskey you consumed."

"That's what I'm going for."

"Well, that's one way to solve it, yeah." Bret murmured. "Although I'm sure there are hordes of girls who'd fight each other to have you now."

"Whatever." Leonard sighed dismissively.

"Hm." The blonde furrowed his brows in thought. "You still believe you'll find her, do you?"

"Yes."

"I wish you would, my friend." Bret concluded then.

"She is real. I know it." Leonard breathed, viewing the reflections on the golden liquid surface. And to his bewilderment, tears started to build up in his eyes, threatening to flow in rivers down his cheeks. It did not feel right just now. He felt his emotions were slipping away from his control. And he did not like it.

But Bret seemed to understand. "I'll leave you now." He said.

"Yeah." Leonard sighed, glad to have another moment for himself. But before he could wrap himself in his thoughts again, a familiar voice resounded from the doorway.

"Hey guys! One of you requested tequila. Was that you, in the corner? Anyway, here it is. May I join?" The tone of this voice was too cocky to ignore. Leonard looked up eventually and recognized a black t-shirt with the sign 'Black Sabbath' and a faint glow underneath it. And there really was no need to look a bit higher to learn it was Anthony Stark.

"Let me love you, Stark!" Derek shouted enthusiastically and leapt over the table.

"Hey hey hey… whoa, take it easy, man!" Stark tried to calm the other man down, and let go of the bottle in the end. "Yeah… Okay, never mind." he said then, scratching the top of his head in confusion.

"Hey, I wasn't aware the Iron Man was coming!" Bret beamed then and shook Tony's hand firmly. The latter winced at it slightly.

"Yeah, I thought I might come and listen to some good rock'n'roll. Great job, by the way. And thanks for coming back and adding the very last song. I almost started to fear I took the wrong t-shirt." Said Tony, his eyebrows working as he tilted his head a little. "Yes, and… Did I understand correctly that the last two songs before the encore were yours?"

"True enough, yes." Bret grinned proudly. "Did you like them?"

"They were just… Awesome." Tony reassured heatedly. "Now, where's that amazing vocalist of yours?" He asked and looked around the room to find Leonard curled up in the armchair.

"Uh, you see, he's a bit indisposed at the moment." Bret warned.

"That's okay." Leonard slurred and waved his hand, the alcohol in his veins finally taking over. "How could I refuse to talk to the Iron Man himself?"

"Yeah, exactly. Why would anyone do that?" Tony agreed and patted Bret's arm with the back of his hand as he started toward Leonard. "I like your hair man." He murmured in appreciation as he passed by.

"Thanks." The blonde muttered carefully, and drew his eyebrows together, turning halfway after Tony. Leonard watched this with a faint smile, ignoring and forgetting about the teardrops rolling down his cheeks.

"Hey sweetie." Tony beamed with his usual self-confidence as he squatted down before the armchair. His expression changed with a blink of an eye then. "Hey! What happened?" he said, frowning a little.

"What?" Leonard squinted.

"Well, it just appears you're crying."

"Oh. Am I?" Leonard wondered and viewed himself as if he could spot his own tears.

"Oh yes. Look." Tony confirmed and reached out to catch one droplet on his fingertip; then showed it to Leonard as a proof.

"Ah…" said the latter and let out an amused laugh. He then seized Tony's finger, twisted it against his face, pressed the wet fingertip against his cheek and slid it down. "So, who's crying now?" Leonard said then, chuckling at his own work.

Tony cleared his throat, smiling lightly. "Dear lad, you're already drunk, aren't you?"

"Mhm." Leonard agreed, taking another swig. "But not quite enough." He said merrily with a bittersweet shadow, his cheeks gleaming with the wetness. "Want some?" he asked, offering the bottle with a roguish grin. Tony took it with an arched eyebrow and smelled it.

"No worries, I brushed my teeth…" Leonard reassured, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Tony taking a sip. "…someday last week, I think." He added then, snickering again.

The Iron Man choked at once, spitting a few drops of the liquid into his palm. He grinned when he managed to swallow. "You're quite a trickster, Mr. Wednesday."

"You know my name?" Leonard eyebrows shot up.

"Of course I do. I still remember you from the lecture. Astonishing mind. And it's always great to see that brilliant students perform the appropriate music… Isn't it, Phil?" Tony explained and then asked the question over his shoulder. The man addressed stood in the doorway. He wore a decent, perfectly fitting suit and a faint little unreadable smile.

"Of course it is." He nodded lightly, blinking.

"By the way, what are you doing there? Come little closer, darling. Leonard is in a good mood, he won't bite you." Tony prompted, glancing back for a second to make sure the things were as he had said.

After a moment of thinking, the mysterious man obeyed, his hands joined in front of him, the little smile still on. "Good evening, Mr. Wednesday." He greeted softly. "What an astonishing performance tonight." He added in a very polite tone.

"Thanks, _Phil_." Leonard smiled widely and shook the bottle shortly. "Come have a taste."

"You're too kind, Mr. Wednesday, but no, thank you." The man smiled in apology. "But may I have one question?"

"Mmh?" Leonard blinked slowly.

"I noticed a rather huge… scar running across your back when you took off your singlet back at the stage."

"Ah… yeah, yeah. That's my little beauty spot."

"Oh." Phil smiled a little wider at that, dropping his eyes. "May I see it?" he requested then, looking up again.

"Sure." Leonard shrugged, but then extended his hand and held up the bottle. "But it comes with a price." He grinned. Phil rolled his eyes minutely, clearing his throat. "All right, thank you very much, Mr. Wednesday. You're truly beyond generous."

"Yeah, I know. C'mon, gulp it properly…" Leonard commanded. "Yeah, like that. Good Phil." He concluded then and held onto the edge of the backrest to help himself scramble up. He turned his back on the two men. "Behold, guys." He said, chuckling.

"Now, that's rather massive. Looks similar to a burn mark… " Phil admitted. "It makes me wonder, how did it happen?"

Leonard blinked once more, flattening his cheek against the leather imitation. "Sadly, I do not recall, Phil." He muttered.

"Ah. I see. So you must have encountered a rather serious accident that bought amnesia to you?"

"Yes."

"How long is it?"

"Almost…" Leonard frowned in thought. "One year and a half."

"Oh, that's a long time. And you still haven't remembered?"

"Nope."

"Hey, what's the meaning of this?" said another voice, the tone of it rather disconcerted. When Leonard managed to straighten a bit and look, he realized it was Shiro. Then he turned swiftly around and caught a glimpse of Tony hiding a smart phone.

"And who are you?" Shiro demanded, frowning deeply as he eyed Phil.

"That's just a bodyguard, no worries. He's sometimes too nosy. But I'll see he doesn't receive his benefits next week." Said Tony, rising up.

"Quite a capable bodyguard, isn't he?" Shiro noted, gesturing at the whiskey bottle in Phil's hands.

"Mr. Nakamune Shiro, I presume?" Phil asked, the indifferent, tiny smile back in place.

"Yeah, what of it? Who are _you_?" Shiro demanded, narrowing his eyes.

Phil dropped his gaze once more, almost shyly, and gave a light shrug. "I'm sorry to confuse you, Mr. Nakamune. I just like to learn about skilled people. I fear I cannot help myself."

"Ever tried a skilled psychiatrist?" Shiro offered. Tony guffawed heartily, poking Phil's shoulder.

"Thank you for your kind recommendation, I'll give it a thought." Phil answered, perfectly calm and composed.

"All right, the show is over." Leonard declared, apparently not amused, struggling to stand up. Finally, he steadied himself holding onto the chair. "The bottle, Phil." He muttered, reaching out for the item. "Thanks." He acknowledged when he got his whiskey back. Then he turned to Tony. "It was nice to talk to you, _sir_." He slurred, pressing a forefinger against the Iron Man's chest. "But I don't like your friend. So, that opening over there – " he gestured at the door, " – I want you to go through it. And please, do not return."

"You sure?" Tony tried, his dark eyebrows up. "I can send him away. He's a big meanie, I know…"

"Both of you." Leonard insisted.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Mr. Wednesday. I wish you a pleasant time, though. Oh and," frowning thoughtfully, Phil brought a forefinger to his lips as he made his way to the door, "as I often remind my friend Tony: try to fall asleep on your side. It decreases the chance of choking on your own vomit."

"Out!" Leonard shouted in reply.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

The persistent throbbing in his head woke Leonard up. Or perhaps had not let him fall asleep yet, he was not sure. His stomach groaned as he turned on his back, and so did he. Realizing he was alone in the double-bed, he let his limbs sprawl across the surface of it. Then he sighed deeply, and covered his closed eyes with his arm. "You fool." He whispered. Perhaps to himself, perhaps to someone else, he could not tell.

Then he heard a silent rustle of a movement. "_Onii-san_?" It was Shiro. Leonard seriously weighed the option of not answering. But then he heard himself groan again. "Mmh?" he replied.

"I'm sick. I mean, really sick. I'm sicker than any human before." Shiro complained with pain in his quiet voice.

"How curious. You're quite talkative for such a sick person, my friend."

"I think I'll throw up. Any moment."

"Then please, make sure to turn on your side, or else you might choke on your own vomit." Leonard pointed out, referring to Phil's advice with a great load of sarcasm. "You heard the man." He uncovered his eyes then, just to open them and stare blankly at the faintly illuminated ceiling. "Or better go and do what you must on the toilet."

"Yeah, good idea. The thing is, I'll vomit for sure if I stand up."

Leonard closed his eyes again and let out a long, painful sigh. "So you want me to get out of my bed, fetch you a bucket and then listen to you throwing up?"

A moment of silence. "Basically." Shiro admitted.

Another, longer while of deep silence. "Splendid." Leonard rolled his eyes and got carefully on his feet. He ambled slowly around the bed and to the bathroom. There he squinted in the sharp light, his skull threatening to explode. Frowning deeply and scratching at his chest he tried to recall what he was doing there. Then he saw the little white bucket, bent carefully down to get it and then moved back to his whining friend. There he switched the tiny lamp on the table on, stood the bucket in front of the tousled head that hung over the edge of the couch, and sat down on the floor.

"Please, be quick about it." Leonard murmured, leaning back against the couch. "I might do the same in a moment."

"I can't force it – " Shiro objected in a tight voice, and then his body arched as his stomach returned its content at once.

Watching it a bit stunned, Leonard cleared his throat. "Well, it actually seems you can, my friend. Good job."

"Thanks." Shiro rasped faintly.

Leonard nodded. "Did Stark take a picture of my scar?" He frowned then. The image was blurred and rather foggy, but he remembered showing his back to the man and his bodyguard. Well, a bodyguard? Really?

"Huh." Was all Shiro had to say. He seemed a bit busy with himself at the moment.

"Are you… uh – " Leonard observed his friend with a sudden concern. He reached out quickly to hold his hair back. "Oh my. Are you quite finished now?"

"Mhm…" The latter uttered with difficulty.

"Isn't it just strange… Whatever one might have eaten, he would always vomit carrot." Looking mindlessly into the bucket, Leonard observed.

Shiro rewarded him with a rather irritated stare. "Thanks, that's exactly what I needed to hear."

"I thought so." Leonard grinned despite his headache. "Come now, you need a cold shower." He said and got up, taking Shiro by the arm.

"No, I beg you!" the latter protested.

"No? Try to stop me, my little friend. Look, you're weak as a kitten." Leonard chuckled lightly and made the Japanese stand up on his wobbly feet.

"_Onii-chan_..!" Shiro pleaded, but followed anyway.

...

"Now, isn't it better?" Opening his eyes and turning to the light Leonard asked as a clean and refreshed Shiro appeared in the doorway.

"Yeah." The short man sighed, switched the light in the hall off and ambled to his couch. He was about to lie down, but he stopped and looked out of the window. "It's raining outside." He said.

"Oh. Yes, it is." Leonard realized himself at last. He must have fallen asleep for a while. Otherwise he would have noticed. He always noticed when it rained. "Could you please open the window?"

"I was about to do it anyway," Shiro admitted and did as he had been asked.

"Where have you last seen Bret?" Leonard wondered then, searching his veiled memories of the evening.

"With Stark and his nanny in suit." Shiro recalled, pulling the window open. "They seemed to have a great time entertaining the chicks." He added, looking outside.

The whisper of the light shower poured in, and the fresh air and sound caressed Leonard's senses. He took a deep, thirsty breath, and then another, and again, and with each inhale, he felt his body relax and the pain disappear. Suddenly, he felt comfortably tired.

"You may sleep on his side of the bed." Leonard had managed to offer before the slumber took over him.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

His heavy eyelids fluttered open hesitantly. It took him a decent while of squinting and frowning until Leonard remembered where he was and recognized a well-known, long-and-blonde-haired, tall figure before him.

"Hey man." Bret greeted, looking down on him, grinning in a genuine amusement.

"Hey." Leonard rasped, the eyebrows still knitted firmly together. "What time is it?"

"10:35" Bret grinned even more. "But it's okay, it's Sunday. Anyway, it took you just one night without me to establish a new order?" he said, gesturing at the still fast asleep Shiro.

"So what? You should have come." Leonard muttered in reply, closing his eyes again.

"He sleeps like a little pig, have you noticed?" Bret pointed out jovially. "With his arms and legs stretched in front of him." He explained, trying to mimic said position.

Leonard turned his head to have a look and gave a light shrug. "He had a difficult night. And maybe he's just excited about all the space. See? We've been quite comfortable without you."

"Ah, come on." Bret smiled widely and sat on Leonard's side of the bed. Then he sighed heavily. "I remember hanging out with Stark for a while and then – pffff… Darkness." The blonde gestured with his hands. "And then I woke up on that couch beside the bar, daylight all around me, the bartender nudging my shoulder with the broomstick to wake me up…"

"Mhm. What an utterly delightful awakening. And what about that Stark's bodyguard?" Leonard asked with a plain suspicion, "Who was he?"

"Yeah… He's no bodyguard you see." Bret chuckled minutely. "He asked quite a lot about you." He said in an indifferent tone, darting a swift sideways glance.

"Did he?" Leonard sat up.

"Yep. And he's after you, you know." Bret gave a serious nod of his head and looked down. "He's here to get rid of you, since you're a part of a failed top secret CIA training program – "

"I see." Leonard nodded and then pressed his inner side of his wrist against forehead, closing his eyes firmly. "I think I remember now…" he winced theatrically, "isn't my name Jason Bourne?" he asked then, viewing Bret with eyes wide open.

"Aww, dear friend, your memories are back!" The blonde was grinning broadly as he turned to face his friend.

"Yeeeah." Leonard uttered, faking an enthused smile. "If only they were mine." He added, dropped his gaze and lay back down. He sighed then, inspecting a thin crack in the ceiling plastering. "Now seriously, did he ask some questions about me?"

"Nah." Bret replied, slipping into a serious tone once more, rubbing at his earlobe. "One or two questions about how we met… You know, I think he's just one of those government shadows who come to sneak around Stark from time to time." He snorted then, looking out of the window. "Could you believe he sat there just with a glass of water and never dropped the grin as he watched me and Stark getting loaded?"

"I don't like him." Leonard decided in the end, closing his eyes.

"It wasn't that bad in the end. He was a bit funny after all." Raising his brows and staring into nowhere, Bret sighed. "He asked about our dear Midget, too. But it turned out he knew much more about him than I did. Actually, I learned quite a thing."

"What?" Lying still, Shiro barged in all of a sudden.

"Hey! You've been listening all the time?" Bret straightened his back, turning to glare wildly at his shorter friend. "Anyway..." He turned to Leonard with a curious stare. "Did you know that he's been a member of the Mensa since the age of… uh – " Bret scratched his beard, trying to remember.

"Ten." Shiro rasped, completing the sentence for the blonde.

"Yeah exactly. Why didn't you tell us?" Bret asked, nearly aggrieved, and poked the lying man's back. The latter moved minutely, but still refused to turn or uncover himself.

"You never asked." The Japanese rasped then.

"Yeah, people usually ask this shit whenever they meet, don't they." Bret furrowed his forehead at the statement.

Leonard chuckled and continued staring at the ceiling. "Now, why would Stark's _bodyguard_ care about it?"

"Because of Stark himself, most likely." Bret smiled slyly and reached out to shake his Japanese friend again. "Be glad, my lad, the Iron Man's interested in you."

"Someone help me." Shiro muttered into the sheets.

"Good point." Bret chuckled lightly. "So, what about a decent breakfast?" He asked then. "Come on, it's on me." He added as he watched the uncertain frowns on his friends' faces.

"I could use some food, true enough. But I'm not sure about our brilliant little friend." Leonard purred then, tucking one hand under his head as he turned questioningly to the motionless man beside him.

"Whatever." The latter groaned.

"Well, I need to take a shower anyway, I smell like…" Bret said; then paused, snuffing on his sleeves. "Ugh." He made a face. "This smells like that ancient sofa in the back-stage."

"And cigarettes." Leonard added promptly.

"Huh. Anyway, try to reboot him in the meanwhile." Bret suggested, gesturing at Shiro with his chin and stood up.

"I'll give it a try." Leonard sighed and turned his sight to the window. Staring blankly, he struggled not to sigh helplessly at his own existence. He had been quite certain that the new experience would show him something more, give the new hints, or perhaps answer some questions. But no. All he had received was another load of a brand new uncertainty. The events and schemes that flowed around him apparently seemed to have a different direction. And it was getting harder and harder to predict.

And all he could do was wait.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

_There is no one here to ask  
>No one here will guide<br>And show me where to go  
>Who am I to know?<em>

_Too many crossroads in my way  
>Too many unanswered questions left<br>I can't remember how I came here  
><em>

_But I won't lose my faith  
>I never have I never will<br>I won't give up I'm gonna find my own way home_

_(Allen-Lande; My Own Way Home)_


	12. Shape of My Heart, Part III

**Chapter 12: Shape of My Heart, Part III**

_I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier  
><em>_I know that the clubs are weapons of war  
><em>_I know that diamonds mean money for this art  
><em>_But that's not the shape of my heart_

_(Sting – Shape of My Heart)_

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

"And I thought we'd be here first." Darcy sighed at the faint sound of music coming from the hall above and pouring down the stairs before them. "What else would be worth the effort of being dragged from the bed at 6 in the morning?" She grunted, rolling her big eyes in Jane's direction.

"It was 6:10 and yeah, I thought so, too." Jane said, frowning a little. She did not like it much. When she had woken up at 5:30 and realized she could not sleep anymore, she planned to get a load of work done this morning, no matter what, and no one was going to stop her, because she and Darcy would be the very first ones to arrive. Unless…

"Eric?" Darcy guessed, narrowing her eyes. "Sounds a bit like Eric."

"I wonder…" Jane murmured vaguely and ran up the stairway. It sounded like Pink Floyd, and well, she could still recall the last time she had heard this particular band and thought it was Eric listening.

The lyrics of '_Learning To Fly'_ together with the heavy smell of a poorly ventilated room flooded her senses upon entering Eric's office.

"Hey." Said Tony Stark who was currently sitting on the floor, his back leaned against the side of Leonard's table. Jane blinked a few times at the sight, but then a little smile crept on her face.

"Hey," she returned the greeting and walked closer. "You look… miserable. Both of you, actually." Her smile widening, Jane observed upon spotting Leonard in his chair. He wore the same green sweatpants and the worn Megadeth t-shirt from yesterday and was currently sitting with his long legs rested on the desk – his feet bare – and the keyboard in his lap. His fingers were moving, but it was hard to tell if they were actually typing. In any case, his nearly closed eyes were cast in shadow and spoke of tiredness and most likely a splitting headache. However, they sparkled a bit when Jane approached. Yet still, there was a heavy grey undertone to the typical lively green of his irises.

"That was kind of you." Showing a faint, apologetic smile Leonard murmured coarsely and then cleared his dry throat. "Hey Darcy."

"Morning." Said the latter, looking around the room with a knowing grin. "Seems you're quite ahead with the party."

"Hm." Tony answered, seemingly in too much pain to form words.

"But why here?" Jane furrowed her eyebrows, still smiling, and leaned against the desk. "What happened?"

"Well," motionless and with eyes still halfway closed, Leonard managed a laugh. "Honestly… I don't know." Then he tilted his head a fraction to squint at the window. "We simply woke up here."

"Entangled and covered with sticky sweat." Tony completed, and doubtless there would be a sly grin on his face provided his stiff features allowed him to make one.

"Hey man," Leonard turned his head back lazily, "I thought we agreed on not telling anyone." He said with the faint smile still in place.

"Ah, true…" Tony murmured, chuckling lightly and rubbing at his forehead. "But we would have to let the world know anyway, sooner or later."

"Is it just me or has this conversation turned the wrong way?" Darcy cut in, plumped down on Eric's chair and spun around in it.

"Has it?" Tony lifted his dark eyebrows. "When exactly? We were just talking about the great time we had together last night, right, Lenny?"

"Shut up." Lenny replied.

"See?" Said Tony, openly ignoring the last remark as he turned to Darcy, his sight never really reaching her. "One could not possibly wish for a better drinking fellow."

"Yeah, sounds familiar." Darcy purred, pushing herself to the side to dart a meaningful look at Leonard.

"Ehm, so…" Jane finally spoke just to say something, and stepped over Tony's legs to get closer to Leonard. "What exactly could you be working on after such a fruitful night?"

He gave her a smile again and willing or not, her heart sped up a bit. "Chasing the particles, one at a time." He replied, in a low voice.

Jane crossed her arms before her and inclined her head in wonderment. "Did you say 'chasing'?"

"Correct." He nodded. "And I can tell I'm surprisingly good at it. Of course I expect it to reflect somehow on my salary."

Jane creased her forehead, giving him a highly suspicious look. She leaned forward to check what was actually happening on the screen of his computer. "Pac-Man?" _Of course._

"Just before you say anything else," he blurted, lifting a finger as well as one of his dark eyebrows, "let me remind you that it's still 43 minutes till the beginning of my working hours."

"And are you sure you even want to _begin_ your working hours?" Darcy stopped wheeling about in the chair to ask the question with an amused grin.

And despite a sudden and unbidden shudder of her insides as Jane wished for Darcy to shut up – or at least not speak to Leonard in this tone – she had to agree. Her eyes flew over the young man once more, noticing the weary eyes, the loose, unkempt hair, the sweaty clothing and his bare feet. "Yeah, are you sure?" she said then, with a bit of concern in her voice this time. "If you promise you'll give your job a try during the weekend, I could let you go home for today."

"Oh, my good lady could let me?" His half-closed eyes narrowed even more. He was plainly teasing her.

"Yes." Jane admitted carefully. "But if you wish to stay and work after all, I won't stop you." She chirped then and began to turn from him, throwing her hands up in a resigned gesture. "Anyway, do as you please," she claimed while stepping over Tony's stretched-out legs once more, "I'm going to make me some coffee. Anyone joining me?" Jane called over her shoulder just before walking out the room. But all she found was that Tony's and Leonard's shoulders were shaking with muffled laughter, and it seemed Darcy was chuckling, too. It was clear they were laughing at her, but for what reason, Jane was not in the mood to find out just then.

Down in the kitchenette, she had prepared her cup and stubbornly poured just enough water for her into the kettle. She fell into the nearest chair, gazed at the white surfaces that surrounded her, and rubbed at her brow. Somehow she just had to wonder if this was the proper start of the day.

The water started to hum already, but she could still not overhear the approaching footsteps. They were silent, mere whispers of bare feet against the floor, but she was still aware of them coming. After some hesitation, she turned her eyes toward the entrance, and saw Leonard standing across the table.

"Now then, what brings our cool party fellow here?" Turning fully and resting her elbows on the white desk, Jane asked, letting out a bit of coldness. "Is the fun over?"

"Well," Leonard scratched at the back of his head, "Where there's Tony Stark, the fun is never really over, I'm afraid."

"And where did all the fondness come from all of a sudden?" Jane purred, relaxing a bit, but then her eyes widened. "Wait, how did the poker game end at all? Did you win?"

"Uh… How to put it…" He said as he propped his long arms against the backrest of a chair before him, "It's a long story. I'd sooner tell you over a nice cup of… coffee? Please..?" He inclined his head, the look in his eyes all innocence.

"Coffee, you say?" She raised her eyebrows in feigned surprise, viewing him with a tiny little smile. "You know, I was about to make more than one, provided someone listened to the offer. But then I thought you might just overhear me over all that sudden merriment. What was it about by the way?"

"Whoa, wait. Firstly, I can always hear you clearly, my lady." he corrected promptly, raising a forefinger. "And secondly, uh… what was the question again?" He asked silkily, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

"Funny," Jane made a face. "Okay… So now hear me say 'Please, serve yourself'." She said and gestured at the cupboard, raising her voice over the murmur of the water almost boiling.

"Jane, please." He added a smile to support his plea that made Jane struggle to hide her wonderment at how possibly could his facial features turn from worn out and grey to cunning and appealing in such a short moment. Still, she resisted bravely.

"As I said." Jane said sweetly and gestured once more. _Oh my, I'm being disgustingly insufferable right now, _she thought when he dropped his gaze. _And for what really?_ Jane asked herself. Of course that somewhere deep inside she knew, but was successful in denying it again.

Leonard looked away for a moment, as if buying time to consider something; then he turned back. "I can make you, you know?"

"Ohoh!" Jane stirred in her seat. "And how would you do that, my lord?"

He shrugged. "Usual stuff. Some warnings, torture… things like that." He stated, sounding uninterested, and walked lazily around the table.

Jane straightened her back in awareness but remained seated. Her eyes followed him as he approached and passed by, but before she could as much as take another breath, the chair beneath her swung back, pulling her weight along. She let out a soft squeak and held firmly by the edges of the seat, but somehow she resisted the urge to bend forward and tilted her head back instead. She looked up and saw his face looming above hers. The ends of his long, unkempt black hair were nearly touching her cheekbones.

Jane blinked a few times and pretended that the blush did not belong to her face. "You mentioned some warnings." She complained, but it sounded a great deal squeakier than she intended.

"Yes." He admitted, bringing the backrest a bit lower, his green eyes smiling and sparkling with mischief. "I mentioned them. What of it?"

"You…"

"Hm..?"

"I'll call you Lenny." With her smile back in place, she threatened.

"Then I'll call you Dr. Foster." He replied sweetly.

"Oh, please." Jane closed her eyes, grinning.

"Please?" He repeated, raising his dark eyebrows. "What is it, Jane? Come on, I'm one step ahead. Say your threat."

She could not help it and let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Well, then I… I will tickle you." She blurted out, laughing.

"Not bad." He said, his lips twirling with a smile. "But perhaps under different circumstances. If you tickle me now, then I fear I may drop you." He explained patiently, his voice colored with a slightly mocking undertone. "Now, isn't it a checkmate?"

Perhaps at a different occasion and with a different person, Jane wouldn't have taken it as easily. She was not very fond of rocking in the chair (and she knew that he knew), and had it been anyone else, Jane would have surely expressed her discomfort and demanded to be put back right away. But now… She could not really tell why (or perhaps just denied to admit the truth), but she felt perfectly safe. Jane just knew Leonard would never let any harm come to her. No, what she felt at the moment was far away from discomfort. It was… something else entirely.

For a moment, Jane just viewed him, looking into his cheerful eyes. She could see the honest joy in there, this ever so strange glimmer that had the power to enlighten even the gloomiest day, and she just had to smile back. She could smell traces of alcohol and his sweat, but somehow she just did not mind. In fact, it only reminded her of having buried her face into his pillow the day before, breathing in his scent.

The kettle clicked and the water was ready.

"All right, you got me. I'll make you that coffee." She said, reconciled, watching him still. "Could you put me back now?" She asked.

At first, Leonard just watched, silent and motionless. His eyes were clear and thoughtful, but something within suddenly stirred restlessly. Jane's smile faded a bit as she focused on this strange expression of his, because she knew it. Clearly, he was hesitant about something. It felt like he wanted to say or do something he was not entirely certain he should. Instead, he just kept observing her intently, letting the restless twinkle in his eyes tease her imagination. The moment was getting long and Jane could feel her heart beat faster. She held her breath as he lowered his head a fraction further. His lips parted.

"As you say, my lady." She heard him say, and then he averted his eyes and straightened.

Her eyelids fluttered nervously. Confused, Jane let out the breath she had been holding, but said nothing. She just cleared her throat and when she was finally allowed to she stood up and walked to the cupboard, stubbornly fighting the dizziness the very last moments gave her. _What sort of game was that?_

She took the kettle by the handle then, her movement measured and slow. There Jane smiled quickly, and bit her lip. _Okay, let's have some fun._

She poured the hot water into her cup, filling it attentively to the rim, and watched the foam appear in silence. Then she put the kettle down, took the little spoon and mixed the silkily dark beverage slowly, savoring each turn and taking her time inhaling the wonderful smell. She held the cup carefully by the handle then, blew at the surface, and despite her promise to make another coffee, she turned around, and sat back in her chair. Her lips were twisting with the suppressed smile as she was brushing the coffee foam with the spoon softly.

As Jane expected, Leonard had just watched her doing all of it, not making any move. "Um," he began after a long moment of consternated silence, and put a thoughtful forefinger against his lips. "Is it just me or did my cup of coffee disappear in a space-time leak?"

Of course he was still speaking when Jane simply could not take it anymore and burst in giggles.

"Well, um," not looking up and still fighting back the laughter, she continued toying with the foam. "I said I would make you that coffee… But have I really specified the time? But no worries, surely one day I will." Letting the tip of her tongue linger at her upper lip a little longer than necessary, she raised her eyes to him.

"What an old trick. I should have seen it coming." He sighed miserably. "But anyway, Jane Foster, what are you trying to achieve by tricking me? Are you _possibly_ aware of what you have started?" He said in a soft, but somewhat threatening voice.

She swallowed a spoonful of the foam and then shrugged, smiling. "I guess we'll see."

"We will." Leonard agreed. He kept viewing her for another long moment before he turned to open the cupboard.

"Hey, hey, I'll do that, okay? Just sit down." Jane leapt to her feet before he could find his mug. "You look tired." She added with a grin and filled the kettle once again.

"Oh, I am." He confirmed and rubbing the weariness from his eye, he sat down slowly, brought one knee up to support his head, and remained silent.

He had his eyes closed when Jane turned to him, and it almost looked like he was asleep. "Ice-cream?" she asked carefully after having stood the freshly made coffee on the desk before him.

One eye opened. "That would be most kind of you," he murmured, watching her with a weary, grateful smile, "but I fear someone ate it in the night… Or I think so. But even if there was some I think I would omit it today."

"I see." Jane replied and sat down beside him. "So, what about that infamous poker game?"

"Um…" Leonard narrowed his eyes as if to refresh his memory, "the thing is, there actually was _no_ poker game. As far as I remember. We simply began with some chatter and drinking… then a little Tetris tournament…"

"Aw, I'm starting to regret I wasn't there." Jane grinned and sipped the black liquid from her spoon. "Who won?"

"Why, me of course. Did you really have to ask that question?" He shook his head in disbelieve.

"Sorry." Jane giggled, shrugging.

"After an exhausting battle with the beautiful Miss Potts." He added then, easing his head on his bent knee again.

"Beautiful, you say?" Her eyebrows went up.

"Yes." His lips twitched into a soft smile and his look sharpened, as if he was waiting for something. "Or do you disagree?"

"No. I just… I think this statement could drive some people jealous." She said in the end, reddening in the process.

"Oh, truly?" his smile got wider. "I wasn't quite aware of such people. Could you please name them? So I can be careful around them the next time."

"Well… what about Tony for instance?" She offered, unable to look in his eyes.

"I don't think so." He chuckled lightly. "But that's one person. Who's next?"

"Ah," with her gaze firmly fixated on her cup and her back quite literally against the wall, Jane simply rubbed at her temple, unable to speak.

"Did someone mention my name?" A well-known voice with a bit of hoarseness cut in, and Jane was never so glad to see Anthony Stark in the doorway. Or was she?

"Yes. We were discussing how bad you are at Tetris compared to your beautiful fiancé." Leonard announced openly.

"Yeah, might be." Said Tony and yawned, showing no signs of getting jealous at the word 'beautiful'. "But poker, that's quite a different thing." He added, his eyes two narrow slits aimed at Leonard. "You know… I think I'm gonna be so generous as to let you keep your hair color. But you must cut those locks when you lose."

"Oh, thank you Tony, my friend." Leonard answered, bringing the annoying calm in his face to perfection. "But never fear. That won't happen."

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

The soft chime of the doorbell echoed throughout the hall and seeped into the bathroom.

"Jane? You ready? The guys are here." Darcy announced quite meaninglessly.

"One minute!" Jane called out loud in reply. "Ouch!" she added silently as she drove the brush of the mascara straight between her eyelids. "Hopeless, Jane. You're hopeless." She murmured, finishing the tedious job of putting on some make-up. It was not like she could not do it herself, she had just become unused to it. During her studies, she used to wear make-up almost every day, but as the time kept passing and her work overwhelming her, she had forsaken the habit bit by bit, and cared to put on make-up just for special occasions. Not to mention there was no one to wear it for in the first place, was it?

But this evening was special in a way, and Jane had thought she might give it a try after all. And if not on an occasion as this one, then when?

"Here we go." Jane said barely audibly as she finished her artwork. She put down the mascara and viewed her reflection critically. Well, she had imagined it a bit different. Maybe this was too soft and decent for the evening, but after a moment she had to nod her head and agree that it actually looked pretty. Decent or no, she managed to combine the right colors to fit both her eyes and dress.

The said soft, short purple dress was actually Darcy's idea. Or better said, Darcy had not even allowed a discussion on the matter as she had simply plucked the dress out of Jane's wardrobe stating 'Wear this or nothing'. It was a long time since Jane had worn this one; she had nearly forgotten about its existence, but to her great surprise it still fit perfectly.

As for the hair, Jane decided to comb it up into a nice bun and curl the remaining tress that tumbled down the side of her face. The next necessary thing was a simple white pearl necklace her mother used to wear. Then the tiny, matching earrings and she was ready to go. Which was right now.

Jane smiled softly as she turned from the mirror and leaned back against the basin. "So, what do you say? Can I leave the house like that?"

Darcy bit her lower lip as she looked Jane up and down. "No, you really shouldn't, dear."

"Hey!" Jane exclaimed with a giggle. "I really tried."

"No, I'm sorry." Leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms, Darcy shook her head. "That's… You're simply too _hot_ to leave the house, that's it. I made a monster of hotness."

"You?"

"_I_ chose the dress, you remember?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, yeah." Darcy grinned. She, on the other hand, did not require any help with dressing herself. Jane knew that Darcy strictly preferred her own style and allowed no debate. Tonight she chose a plain white blouse and elegant, finely striped greyish pants with a matching vest, jacket and hat. Her dark hair was lose, but gathered at one shoulder. To bring in some color, she'd put on a string of blood-red beads and lipstick and nail polish of the same shade.

Darcy's red lips shone with a bright smile as she extended her hand. "Shall we, my princess?" She asked, inclining her head, her eyes sparkling.

"Of course." Jane returned the smile and her heart leapt with a warm sensation at Darcy's gesture. They still were the best friends, weren't they?

The doorbell chimed twice more when they walked out the bathroom into the dim hall.

"Coming! Just a sec!" Darcy shouted and bent down to put on her high heels. And they were high, Jane acknowledged with a mixed portion of admiration and jealousy. She herself had never learned to wear them and had given up on it completely after spraining an ankle.

And thus, pursing her lips helplessly at Darcy growing up considerably upon putting on the shoes, Jane slipped into her black ballet flats. She checked her purse again if she had everything. "Have you seen my keys?" she asked with a worried frown.

"Right here, sweetie." Darcy purred as she pulled the item from the lock. "Catch." She said, tossed the bunch at Jane and opened the door.

"_Hey, that's pretty cool. Now just a Gatling in your hands and it would be perfect!"_ Slipping into an elegant black jacket Jane heard Tek admiring Darcy's outfit and unbidden, her heart leapt once more. She wondered what words the guys would have for _her_. Trying hard to calm down, she blew out the air from her lungs slowly, turned to the door, took the doorknob and stepped out.

The last beams of the setting sun cast the narrow street in gold and orange on one side and shade on the other. Being suddenly out of the dimness of the hall, Jane squinted, and somehow still unable to face the company, kept her stare low and fixated on her hand as she was closing the door.

"No worries, I have other deadly items packed in my purse." Darcy replied. "They're quite required when I'm accompanying a hottie like this, you know."

"Darcy, please." Shaking her head, Jane grinned as she locked the door. Then, finally, she turned around.

And two twinkling green orbs were the first thing she placed her gaze upon. "Hey Leonard." She muttered weakly, glad for being able to say just this. If he had been looking totally worn-out and tired that morning, there was no trace of it now.

His eyes were as clear, thoughtful and striking as ever, his skin bright and porcelain, his eyelashes long and dark. His hair was loose this time, and combed back, the ends curling up slightly. He wore his usual black sneakers and black pants, but the green shirt Jane saw for the first time. And as everything he liked to wear, it suited him perfectly. The color matched his eyes, and its cut stressed out his lean shapes in a very fine, elegant way. Of course he had rolled the long sleeves up to his elbows, but with more care and attention this time, it would seem.

At first, Leonard just stood there, watching, but then his lips finally moved. "Jane." He said softly, consuming the sight of her in silence.

"This, Jane Foster, is what I call breath-taking." Tek cut in cheerfully, gesturing with his forefinger. "You should dress like that more often."

"Thank you." said Jane, somewhat disconcerted at Leonard's lack of words, "And I would if my job was to party." She concluded, hid the keys in her purse and moved to walk down the two steps from the doorway. What she hadn't expected though, was someone's hand taking hers. Her pulse skyrocketed. Surprised at how little was needed to make her react like that, Jane parted her lips, but managed to choke down the gasp.

Leonard was holding her gently, but firmly enough to support her as she descended the stairs. "You look wonderful, Jane. So much that it took all the words from me." He confessed, looking down at her now, and still holding her hand by the knuckles. During the statement, his face lit up with a touch of blush so clearly unintentional that it made Jane grin widely. She had never seen him like that and it filled her equally with surprise and the feeling of joy that had become so familiar to her recently.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say anything at first. But it's entirely your fault." He explained, squeezing his fingers around hers a bit more.

"Hey!" Darcy's and Tek's synchronized protest brought Jane down to earth rather unmercifully.

"Come on, sweethearts, we have a bet to settle." Darcy continued in a lower, conspiratorial voice as she sidled closer, sneaked her arm under Jane's elbow and dragged her along.

Of course Jane would rather walk beside Leonard, but he seemed not to complain about Darcy capturing her, and so it looked like they would absolve the rest of the journey in this arrangement. Jane could not say she felt happy about it – in fact, she could not repel the thought that Darcy meant to keep her as far from Leonard as possible.

_But… No. No, no, no. Just stop it._ Jane reprimanded herself. She did not want to think this way. This wasn't her. Right? _All right._ Jane sighed almost audibly.

She caught herself truly regretting Garo had excused himself for tonight. He was always gallant to her, and Jane was sure she would be holding him by the elbow by now, had he been with them. And yes, she would like it much better than being dragged by Darcy.

However, holding on Leonard's arm would still feel a hundred times better, Jane had to admit to herself. And maybe… Well, maybe she should finally stop running from these thoughts and embrace them instead. Because most likely there were no blond princes left searching for her anywhere.

An even if they were, she just could not wait anymore…

They were bound to Monster's Lair, a pub and music club Jane remembered since she had moved to Puente Antiguo years ago. It had a certain amount of reputation even before the events of Thor's banishment to Earth, and after that its fame could only grow. And as one the few places nearby, the pub still seemed to attract visitors from close and afar, despite the now fading interest in Puente Antiguo and its surroundings as a place of the rumored alien visit. Next profit it had to offer was the fact that it adjoined with a Native American casino of the same name, one of the few in this region of New Mexico.

Jane tried to recall the last time she visited said pub herself, and found with a start that it had been good few months ago. Was she truly that busy she couldn't find the time just to relax and have fun with friends? Had she truly become this grey, boring workaholic? But how? And when? There had been times she went outside almost every weekend…

Her lips tugged into a light, nostalgic smile. A remembrance of one night at the Monster's Lair a few months after Thor's departure came to her mind. It had been a cozy place filled with enthusiasm and new fresh thinking back then. After a few beers she was able to escape Eric's attention and ended up at a table with four postdocs from Europe, each one speaking with a different accent, but all of them young men hungry for sensation and knowledge. It was a wonderful evening, and Jane recalled how she'd had to bite her lip and focus on keeping nodding her head at one of the guy's bold theories that Puente Antiguo had actually much to do with the Tunguska event and would surely provide the long-desired answers. He even started to outline a paper he had supposedly come to collect the data for. _Dima… you were so cute and charming in your own way. What might you be doing now? _Jane had to wonder. She was pleased she could still remember his name. However, she and the guys had eventually finished their drinks on that night, wished sweet dreams and continued the separate ways. Jane had never heard about any of them since then.

All in all, in had been a strange time. She had felt desperate about Thor, the misery growing stronger each day he was not coming back as he had promised, but on the other hand, the presence of SHIELD and all the new people around her, the new project and development… it had been amazing having been a part of it. The adventure had not ended with the Destroyer's attack and Thor gone. It had just started.

Well, of course there had been raids of nerds and sensation seekers from all over the world after the mysterious events, even though the SHIELD had worked hard to force through a cover-up story. A number of psychologists had been called to take care of the local inhabitants persuading them that what they had seen was just an accident of a new air force technology being tested near the town. The official statement was that what actually had occurred was an impact of a very troublesome meteorite, which caused a wide-spread atmospheric and electromagnetic field anomaly resulting in the malfunction of most electronic devices in the area, including the made-up secret army project. And of course, the guilty meteorite's shape should have resembled a hammer.

…So much for Mjollnir and its owner.

But of course that could not have stopped the rumors reverberating throughout the country and more than enough listeners ready to believe them. And so the people had been coming, no matter that they would eventually just end up breaking camps in the desert dirt outside the city and listening to local men boasting about pulling a giant magical hammer out of a deep crater.

No wonder that the little, struggling town had suddenly burst out with life, with the scientists and intellectuals, madmen and people sniffing out money alike streaming in from all directions. Puente Antiguo had been literally growing up before one's eyes, and if not anything else, it had meant that Jane's days in her little neat trailer were numbered. Not waiting for the prices to jump up, Jane had promptly decided to use a part of the financial compensation SHIELD had provided her with, sell the trailer and buy a house, small but just hers, hers alone. Of course she had been quite certain she was going to stay in Puente Antiguo for a longer time. Plus, like this it had not been truly hard to persuade Darcy to stay as well.

However, as the months and years passed by, the flame of sensation had started to fade away and the streets to empty, the souvenir shops selling hammers of all sizes vanish one by one, and houses had begun to stand abandoned again.

But now it seemed that only time-proven places retained some liveliness... _And that only truly interested, capable people keep coming to stay_, Jane thought and peeked over her shoulder at one of them.

"We're almost there." Jane blurted, not knowing what else to say as Leonard returned the look.

He smiled. "Yes, I know."

"You've been there already?" Jane asked, wrenching free of Darcy's grasp and turning around to face him, walking backwards for a while.

His smile got wider. "I've lived here for a couple moths now. I've been there several times."

"See, Jane? Too much work keeps you from all the fun." Darcy purred. "I keep telling you all the time, right?"

"Yeah." Turning back again, Jane tugged at her collar and crossed her arms before her. This afternoon had been rather cold, and the evening was turning even colder, which fact made Jane wonder as to how Leonard managed to keep such warm hands. Unlike Tek, who was wrapped tightly in a jacket, Leonard wore just the green shirt. Of course it looked nice on him, but still… Well, they were all most likely going back home by taxi, so what.

They kept walking in silence until they reached the entrance of the pub. Muted sounds of live music were drifting through the closed door, and got considerably louder as the small party entered and walked through the dark entrance hall into the main room.

It was actually one of the reasons, if not the main one, why the Monster's Lair was so popular. Any band or a solo musician was welcome here to play and let the audience enjoy and judge their talent. And if there were no other artists to entertain the guests, the family that owned the pub took over the job themselves. The father, his son and daughter and her boyfriend called themselves The Monsters once on the stage and were more than capable of satisfying the cultural needs of the locals. They also weren't afraid of inviting volunteers from the audience to perform with them, which often resulted in each evening being special and enjoyable in its own way.

_Seems the Monsters are already out of the lair_, Jane mused as she and the small company walked through the entrance corridor. The music was getting more distinct with each step and flowed around in a nicely, slowly swaying rhythm.

Finally, the main room of the pub opened before them. They did not know yet to which table they were bound, and so they stopped at a small, symbolic handrail atop a broad stairway that divided the width of the room in the middle and separated a dance floor and the stage on the left from the area with tables and seats and the bar on the right. Attached to the wall adjacent to the bar was a jukebox - a device of necessity in this corner of the country. Right beside the device was a corridor leading to the restrooms and the passage to the casino.

Jane breathed in the familiar, somewhat stuffy scent and looked around. The room was decorated with dark wood, a few shades darker than the wooden tables and chairs. Heavy curtains hid the windows and the lamps seemed too old and small to provide enough light, so a continuous dimness ruled over the place, except the stage and the bar, which were lit sufficiently.

After examining the rest of the place, Jane's gaze eventually lingered on the stage. The Monsters seemed to have already gained numerous and avid audience for this evening. The only woman in the band, Amy, was a little blond who looked perhaps a bit tiny for her bass guitar, but she was amazing at it anyway. Her brother played the lead guitar with rivaling enthusiasm, shadowing their father on the same instrument. Next was Amy's boyfriend whom Jane knew the least – he stayed hidden behind his drums most of the time.

Jane was glad The Monsters played tonight, and even gladder for Amy's presence. The girl was also an outstanding singer, and it never felt quite right when her father would replace her anytime she was away playing with her own, Cranberries-revival band.

Focusing and narrowing her eyes, next Jane realized that there was already someone extra. The man singing obviously did not belong to the band and was apparently a volunteer from the pub's guests. And in addition, he looked terribly familiar to her. However, Jane could not recall where or when she had seen him last. Instead, an idea popped up in her mind, and it made her smile. Of course, this was a great chance to discover Leonard's talent in this field. They just _had_ to persuade him – surely he was used to –

"Now, what have we here!" Leonard announced, looking at the stage, and derailed Jane's train of thought effectively. He turned to Darcy. "I think I know what I shall demand of you when you lose the bet, darling." Crossing his arms, he gestured with his chin at the man singing.

"No, thanks." Darcy replied acidly, but her look said something else as she turned to Leonard and observed him.

Jane felt uncomfortable with any bit of attention Darcy received from Leonard, but it was not in her intention to frown the entire evening, so she swallowed the bitterness and focused on the unknown, but familiar singer. And then she knew at once. She saw Eric, too, shouldering his way out of the small crowd. Jane smiled at him and gestured for him to come closer. He hopped up the wooden steps leading from the dance floor and approached them.

"Eric!" Jane exclaimed at her life-long friend and mentor, omitting the greeting, urging him to turn and view the stage. "That's Clint?" She said with a smile.

"Yeah, of course!" Darcy grinned.

Smiling, Eric hummed into his bottle of beer. He nodded then. "Indeed."

"But what he's doing here? I haven't seen him for ages." Jane gasped. "And I had no idea he could sing."

"No, he can't. But he's quite good at hiding it." Leonard commented dryly. Tek sniggered at that. "Hey! You should be the last one laughing, my friend." Leonard continued, darting a quick look at the IT expert. "Good evening, Eric." He added finally.

"Ah, good evening." Eric said at last, watching Clint pat the nearest members of the band on the shoulders and leave the stage as the song continued without the vocal part. "And I wouldn't be so strict judging the man, he did put some feelings into it, I'd say."

"Feelings?" Jane asked with a curiosity, raising one eyebrow. "How many beers did you have, Eric?"

"Jane, please. This one is the second." Eric rolled his eyes.

"Second? How long have you been here? Seriously, Eric, I don't – "

"Jane!" Scowling, Darcy jabbed an elbow into Jane's ribs. "He's a man grown, let him be." She reprimanded, crossing her arms. "If he wants to get drunk, he surely knows the consequences. Perhaps he'll manage to talk Hawkeye into dragging him back home."

"Must you bring this up all the time?" Eric protested, clearly a bit insecure, and hung the hand that held the bottle of beer considerably lower. "It was an accident. I do not require dragging home, thank you."

"My, my, this sounds like a most fascinating story. I'm all ears." Leonard chirped, grinning slyly.

"Uh, later, it's a… _long_ story." Jane cut in promptly, suddenly intensively searching the other section of the pub. "I think we should take a seat now."

"Yeah, great idea. Evening, fair ladies!" A new voice approached, and when Jane turned in its direction, she found the sharp blue eyes of Clint Barton. They were vigilant and emotionless, although his lips were smiling. It felt so strange it gave Jane a chill.

"And no greeting for the gents?" Leonard replied, his voice low and reserved, attracting attention in a different way than Jane was used to. Standing between the two men, she waited for Clint's reaction. But he said nothing, only his eyes, cold and unfathomable, moved a fraction and focused on Leonard. Jane entwined her fingers.

"Easy, fancy pants. Ladies first." Clint said at last, his tone peaceful but harboring something cold. And without as much as a flutter of an eyelid he kept staring.

Jane could feel the atmosphere thicken when she looked back at Leonard and found the same, empty expression on his face. But then thoughtful lines appeared on his forehead and between his eyebrows. His lips parted again. "Have we met before?" He asked with a cautious interest.

Clutching her fingers tightly now, Jane turned back to Clint, perhaps to try and say something, but as she looked upon him, she could see that something was happening with the corner of his mouth. Yet still, his eyes resembled two motionless pools of blue coldness, and it was impossible to make out what he was thinking.

"Well, I can't deny it." Clint spoke at last. "People come and go… such is life. So…" he pursed his lips, looking Leonard up and down with a suspicion. "I've heard you're here to destroy us at poker?"

"Anything you wish." Leonard replied, completely emotionless. "But who's asking?"

At that, Jane felt like standing in a cross-fire. Sort of automatically, she took a step to the side and exchanged quick looks with Darcy, Tek and Eric, seeking for some compassion and maybe also a little bit of confusion in their eyes. However, it seemed that unlike her, they were actually enjoying this little exchange.

Clink took his time to speak. "Clint Barton." He said eventually, offering his right hand.

Leonard took it. "Barton…" He repeated with his eyes narrowed, shaking Clint's hand lightly. "What a relief."

Clint frowned this time. "What?"

Leonard shrugged. "I was almost afraid you were going to say 'Eastwood'."

"Hey!" Clint said, shortly displaying something that could be a little smile. He pointed a forefinger at Leonard's chest. "Listen carefully man. You ain't gonna soften my heart with flattery. No matter what you've been boasting of, you're gonna lose tonight."

"Look at that." Leonard smiled. "You have heart. I like it." His expression reminded Jane of a cat playing with its prey.

"Guys, we're glad to see you bonding," Darcy cut in there, "but I'd rather find our table and order some drinks. Yeah, and what about Stark? Is he here already?"

"Yes." Eric awakened. "Right here." He announced, gesturing with his chin.

"Guys, didn't I mention before that Miss Lewis here has the most wonderful ideas?" Approaching them with one hand in his pocket and a glass of champagne in the other, Tony Stark stated cheerfully, his face literally radiating mischief and self-confidence. He chose a white tuxedo this evening, a white tie and a softly pinkish shirt, and needless to say, he looked as dashing as ever.

Not too sure what to think of Clint's presence, Jane finally found herself enjoying the thought of meeting Pepper again. At last someone she would truly like to see and did not feel strange or tense or jealous around.

"_Thank you, thanks a lot!"_ A voice suddenly cut through the room. Jane turned and saw it was the young guitarist on the stage speaking. The instrumental ending of the song had lasted quite long after Clint had left the stage, but now it seemed to have ended at last.

"And of course we'd like to thank Clint!" Amy, the girl on the bass guitar announced loudly. "Hey, I want some noise for him now!"

At her request, the audience started to turn their heads in all directions to spot said man, but even if most of them did not find him, they all cheered wildly. In response, Clint nodded his head in appreciation, grinning, and hid his face with his hand a few times. He almost looked shy, and it almost looked genuine. Jane could not help a little smile, too, especially when she saw that Leonard clapped his hands as well.

"And if you don't mind, we're gonna stick with Tommy Bolin's songs for a while." The father of the siblings and the leader of the band announced, taking his position at the microphone again. "Here's '_Teaser'_."

"No!" Tony moaned into his glass.

"Hey!" Leonard exclaimed, furrowing his brow at Tony.

"Yeah. Hey!" Clint did the same, then looked at Leonard, curious. "You like Tommy Bolin?"

Leonard tucked his hands into his pockets, shrugging. "He's not on the absolute top of my charts, but..."

"Wait. You and that band of yours had performed the song Clint was trying to sing just a while ago." Tony added, gesturing with his tall glass.

"You remember?" Leonard wondered, half smiling, half frowning with disbelief.

"Why, I'm not called a genius for a poor memory." Tony purred and sipped at his champagne.

A sparkle or two appeared to have escaped Clint's blue eyes as he observed Leonard intently. He bit his lip. "Leonard, is it?" He asked carefully.

"Those who like Tommy Bolin may call me Lenny." Leonard announced, his green eyes smiling.

Clint watched him for a moment before he decided what to do. "Come on." He said at last, his tone completely changed, "Let's have a drink." He announced and headed to the bar.

Viewing every one with apologetic eyes, Leonard shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, guys." He said and followed.

"What was that?" Tony's eyebrows went up as he watched the two men leave. "Did I miss something?" He asked, feigning concern.

"Don't worry, we're asking ourselves the same question." Jane replied dryly. "I'm in a mood for a drink, too. Shall we?" she asked, and not waiting for a response, she followed the guys.

Leonard and Clint were already in a lively talk when the rest of the group joined them at the bar. And they were not alone. Beside them, two ladies were sitting on the high bar chairs. One of them was Pepper – tall, slender and very beautiful, wearing green satin dress.

The other one was of a shorter figure. She had chosen a black dress, and what rather caught the eye, her hair and lips were equally red. She was also attractive, but in a very different way than Pepper. Her features were soft and full – as were her other shapes, to be sure. However, she was not stout, no. Strong and muscly would describe her better. As they approached, their eyes met, and the woman caught Jane staring.

Jane averted her eyes quickly, but it was too late. The woman had already a little, amused smile on her lips.

"Hey everyone." Pepper got up and greeted friendly as the groups joined. "Jane!" She exclaimed then, "You look amazing!" She commented and took Jane's hand in both hers.

"Thank you." Jane smiled, "you too, ladies." She said politely and looked at the other woman.

"Yes, um," Pepper continued, "this beautiful woman here is Natalie, my capable assistant. Nat, this is Jane Foster, our cute but brilliant astrophysicist."

_Cute..? _Jane had to guard her eyebrow from jumping up.

Natalie stood up and shook Jane's hand. "Nice to meet you, Jane. I had no idea scientists are this pretty." She said in a somewhat hoarse, but comfortably melodic voice.

Jane smiled widely. "Uh, thank you." She said and darted a quick look at Leonard. He was standing on her left, just beside Pepper. So close... However, he was not looking back. He seemed too busy chatting with his new friend Clint and being served a glass of whiskey.

To complete Jane's dissatisfaction with the situation, Darcy sneaked up from behind and jabbed her forefingers into Leonard's ribs. He jumped up and turned around laughing. Darcy made a prompt step backwards, but when Leonard just leaned back against the bar, she came closer again and straightened his collar, commenting on his green shirt and how precisely it fit his eyes.

Jane felt sick._ No. Just… No._ Jane protested internally. Like today's morning, this evening did not seem to have begun the right way either. Well, definitely not the way Jane had imagined. For instance, she thought she would spend the time mainly talking and joking with Leonard. The way they did the evening before, and the morning in the kitchenette… Why couldn't they? Why did everything have to be like that? Why does it have to be Darcy who speaks the most and the loudest? And now Clint – a man she had known for so long… but had she really? She did not like this strange, hollow expression of his face, as if he was constantly hiding something. And what was he doing here anyway? Leonard's attitude had changed the moment the Hawkeye turned up. It felt like his interest in her had dissolved that instant. And Jane truly did not like this shift in mood. She hated it in fact. But little did she know, it got only worse.

When Darcy was quite done flirting with him for the time being, Leonard's attention turned to Clint and Tony completely. The three men seemed to have separated themselves from the rest of the party as it turned out they would be the only one's moving to the casino and joining a poker game. It became their main topic to discuss as they sipped on their drinks, and as soon as they finished them, they excused themselves for the most part of the evening.

But just before they left, Darcy sidled up to Leonard. "Hey, wait a sec, handsome." She said to him, propping her elbow on the bar desk.

_Are you kidding me?_ Jane fumed inside.

"What?" he asked, standing close, too close to the girl. "Is my lady willing to give her knight a favor?"

"Sort of." Darcy purred, tilting her head to the side. "Please, be so kind and lose." She pleaded with him, reaching out her hand to curl one of his raven hair tresses over her finger. In that moment, Jane felt as if her insides knotted so tightly she might choke.

"Hm." Leonard looked up, as if giving the advice a thought. "I might try to make it seem I'm helpless for a while. You know, to bring in some fun. Yeah…" he nodded his head. "You really might have some good ideas, dear." He concluded and turned. And left. Without as much as a look.

After that, the party finally reluctantly moved to the reserved table, with Darcy in the lead. Jane watched her best friend walk and take a seat, and only then she realized she was still standing at the bar.

Feeling all stiff and burning from the inside, Jane turned slowly to take her drink. She hesitated. _No, I can't. I just…_ To be honest, all she wanted to do was leave. Or better, run to the casino part of the building. But what was she supposed to do there? Having listened to the guys discussing the minimum stakes, she had enough sense to realize that tonight's game just wasn't meant for her. So what then?

"Jealousy issues?" A slightly hoarse, seductive voice intoned from behind.

Jane wheeled about with a start. "I… it's…" She panicked at the sudden, stunningly pertinent question, failing to find any suitable words to answer. "What?" inclining her head and frowning lightly, Jane blurted out, finally.

"She's your best friend?" Natalie asked, turning to look openly at Darcy at the table.

"She's – " murmuring to buy some time, Jane still struggled to find a possible way to get out of this.

"You don't have to explain." Natalie smiled knowingly. "I have eyes to see, and I saw clearly. Come on, finish your drink. The next one is on me."

"Thanks." Jane breathed out, finally able to form a statement. "I think I need one."

"Yeah, no worries. The others will make it without us for a moment." Natalie purred in her harshly melodic voice and turned to earn the bartender's attention.

And so it happened that after feeling like screaming and just running away from the place, Jane found herself enjoying the company of Natalie, a woman she met for the first time in her life, but after a few moments started to think they had known each other for years. She was unexpectedly kind and understanding and very enjoyable to listen to – the type of person you feel comfortable with discussing almost anything. And so finally, finally Jane realized she was talking about Leonard. Very carefully, truth, but even this little felt still totally inappropriate. Because no matter what her heart might have wanted her to feel or think, there was always Thor, her tall blond alien prince in shining armor. A prince who had promised to return for her, a man to whom she dedicated three years of her life… But was this the actual reason why had all the men, Leonard included, become a sort of taboo for her? Because of a dream of an immortal warrior and three wasted years of her life? But taking this into account, did she still love Thor? Had she ever at all?

No matter what was the true answer, it was Thor's shadow that had kept her all the time from admitting the reality to herself and to the others. Whenever Darcy had tried to discuss Leonard, what would usually happen? Jane would just always stubbornly pretend to be angry or annoyed with him, and without even a slightest interest. So what was she actually blaming Darcy for? The girl simply believed that she had a free way to go…

Yes, those realizations had a bitter taste, but even though it was a very insightful and refreshing talk. Still, Jane remained somewhat careful when she was asked directly in this sense. And especially when she was asked about Thor. But all in all, she could not see anything better to do at the moment than to stay and chatter with Nat at the bar.

There was no doubt Natalie was an intelligent woman with a rather hard, but also very interesting life and as their talk moved on to other topics, Jane listened to her with enthusiasm and here and there added her own comments and little stories. They ended up laughing many a time, and so Jane soon stopped scowling at Eric coming frequently to the bar and picking up rounds of tequila shots. After having finished the second herself, Jane decided just to melt into the refreshing talk and melancholic mood of the series of Cranberries' songs that were drifting up from the stage.

In the end, Jane barely noticed that Darcy and Pepper and the guys moved to the casino. Stubbornly, she turned away from them, pretending not to hear their prompts for her to come along. She chose to continue having a good time with Natalie instead, but on the other hand, she could not deny a certain nervousness settling all over her like a heavy cover. They'd said they were going just to have a look, but after a few tens of minutes it started to feel like ages. Jane had actually begun to think about checking on the situation herself, but then Darcy and Pepper suddenly reappeared next to the bar, both giggling, their faces flushed pink. The nostalgic sound of _"Ode To My Family"_ was flowing through the air by then.

"So? Any news?" Not looking up from her glass, Jane asked Darcy rather loudly.

"Yeah." Darcy answered that instant and staggered closer, very close. "I think it's time to get ready for a short-haired Leonard." She said and patted Jane on the shoulder rather forcefully. Obviously, she managed to consume a couple more shots than Jane did.

"Well, we cannot say until the end of the game, can we?" Natalie objected.

"Whatever." Darcy shrugged, asked the bartender for another round and then staggered to the table.

Natalie turned in her seat and watched Darcy go.

However, unlike Darcy, Pepper stayed at the bar and slithered to Jane from the other side. Her joyous eyes seemed a bit clouded, and from the whiff of the alcohol smell Jane could say Pepper had gotten herself into a very cheerful mood as well.

"So, Jane. I think it's time for you to reveal what you intend with your pretty student." Pepper slurred finally, her tone harboring an unmistakable hint of alcohol-induced, conspiratorial mood.

"What? Well… if you mean Leonard…" Jane reddened there, "he's not _my_ student."

"Oh, all the better!" Pepper beamed and giggled together with Natalie.

"Wait, what – what do you mean?" Jane smiled, blushing from ear to ear.

"I heard love affairs between students and their teachers are considered rather problematic, right?" Natalie purred in her harsh, seductive voice, and finished her shot of tequila at once. "Three more, please." She gestured at the bartender.

"But… what are you talking about?" Jane peeped into her glass, now feeling urged to finish the drink, and did not dare look up. She felt like she was standing between two extremely skilled torturers.

"You like him, do you?" Pepper asked, propping her elbow on the bar and almost lying down her head on the desk as she tried to get into Jane's view. "No, Jane, don't even try to deny it. I saw what I saw." She added more quietly, grinning.

Shifting slightly away from Pepper, Jane clutched her empty glass tightly and fixated her eyes on her hands. "Why, is this some conspiracy against me?" she murmured, just loud enough to be heard through the music.

"Why, yes, dear." Natalie purred again, leaning her back and elbows against the bar. She tilted her head back and to the side to give Jane a questioning look. "Come on, you've been dancing around it for a while now. Well?"

"Well, I…" Jane began insecurely. She just could not get rid of the feeling she should not say those words. Even if they were true.

"You?" Pepper encouraged, sliding closer on the bar desk.

Jane breathed in. And perhaps it was because of Darcy, or perhaps because of all the alcohol and the wistful songs, but Jane simply could not hold it back anymore. "Yes." She said simply. A wide smile spread across her face. "I do. I like him… Maybe too much." A huge rock fell off her chest, and she felt like weighing nothing. This was it. _I'm sorry, Thor, I'm so sorry, but I just couldn't go on like this._

"Oh, good. But your pretty little best friend does not seem to mind." Nat commented dryly. Jane looked over her shoulder to find Darcy at their table.

"Yeah, she seems to like him, too. And she… It's actually my fault." Jane admitted aloud. "She is still my best friend, let her be. I'll handle it myself."

"Will you?" Pepper frowned suddenly. "But you really don't look like that, sweetie." She pointed out and pricked her forefinger into Jane's shoulder.

"Ow!" Jane protested. This was surprisingly brutal as well.

"Plus, if she were your true friend, she would admit Leonard likes _you_ back in the first place. She should stop meddling." Natalie added, her back still turned to the bar.

"Me?" Jane smiled in a rather silly way. Darcy was forgotten in a heartbeat and Jane felt like laughing with joy. However, as a scientist she was used to save a certain portion of doubt for every outburst of happiness. "Why do you think he likes _me_?"

"Oh, please." Natalie rolled her eyes. "The way he was watching you spoke for itself."

"He was watching me?" Jane shook her head in disbelief. "Well, sorry but it seemed to me that once we entered this pub I stopped existing for him."

"Oh no, dear. He only watches you when he's sure you are not watching him back. He seems shy."

"But _you_ seem like a talented watcher." Smirking, Jane brought her glass to her lips and sipped carefully.

Nat shrugged, looking around the room. "Practice."

Jane frowned. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Ah, no. You said it. I'm a watcher. I just like watching people." Nat replied, observing the groups of people around the tables and on the dance floor.

"But Jane, we ought to make a plan!" Pepper demanded attention again, rising her head up from the bar and taking her glass.

"What plan exactly do you have in mind?" Also willing just to watch people, Jane turned in her seat and leaned back against the bar, her drink in her hands.

"Plan on what you're going to do to get the man, what else." Pepper revealed, and sipped at her tequila, her eyebrows up.

But this actually sounded interesting. "Yes? What I should do then?" Looking down again, Jane bit her lip. "I'd like to learn from the chick who tamed the infamous Tony Stark."

"Haaardly." Pepper snorted, and then giggled lightly. "But thanks."

"My, it's so simple." Natalie sighed, sounding almost bored.

"Is it?" Jane lifted her eyebrows.

"Yeah. You should just dance with him. You know, touching each other, the swaying moves… Everything else will follow." Natalie smiled lightly.

Jane shivered. Just the thought of Leonard holding her in his arms was overwhelming. "But he will have to ask me." She murmured. "And what if he asks Darcy first?"

For once, Natalie turned to Jane and frowned. "Don't be silly. Even if he will, what about it?"

"What if _she_ tries something?" Jane pointed out, feeling somewhat helpless.

"And that's why we ought to make a plan." Pepper cut in, throwing one arm around Jane's shoulders.

"Pep, you're drunk." Natalie reached out past Jane and put a forefinger under her blond friend's chin and examined her clouded blue eyes.

"Hey!" Pepper protested loudly, pushing Natalie away. "I'm just in the proper mood. Come on, Jane, listen to me, I got it. Once Leo comes back – "

"He hates that nickname." Jane pointed out and sipped at her drink.

"Whatever." Pepper waved her hand around her. "Anyway, when he comes back from the casino defeated, he'll need to be comforted. And _that's_ your moment." She said, jabbing her finger right under Jane's collarbone again.

"That really hurts!" Jane scowled this time.

"Sorry." Pepper apologized, giggling and covering her mouth. "I might be a bit drunk after all. But..!" She said, rising her hand to draw attention to her newest idea. "I think the dancing is quite a good idea itself. Who's with me?"

"You want to dance with us to _that_?" Natalie waggled one eyebrow. It was still the nostalgic Cranberries ballad sounding throughout the place.

"Nat, relax, it doesn't matter. It's a nice song and that's enough. Isn't it, Jane?"

"Well, I…" Jane reddened again, "I'd prefer dancing with Leonard right now. To this particular song I mean."

"Heeeyyy! Look who's talking!" Pepper exclaimed cheerfully.

"So, um," Jane cleared her throat. She needed to get in to the proper mood, too. Desperately. "I suggest drinking some water first. Then another round of tequila, and if they play something nice, we go dancing, all right?"

"Yeah." Pepper agreed, and raised her hand, but Natalie swiftly caught her by the wrist before she could do any more harm to Jane's collarbone. "Easy, my friend." The redhead purred, digging her dark eyes into the blue ones.

However, no sooner than they finished their glasses of water, the band announced from the stage that they were going to rest for a while and the guests are welcome to use the jukebox. Pepper nearly spluttered. "The thing is mine!" She shrieked promptly. She turned from the bar and tried to hop down elegantly, but her long legs in high heels failed her and she literally fell off her chair, but Natalie was alert and nimble enough to catch her.

"Thanks, sweetie." Pepper showed an innocent smile. "You saved my life." She said and snatched her tequila from the bar.

"Yeah. But perhaps we should slow down a bit, huh?" Nat replied, wrestling the glass from Pepper's grasp.

"Natasha!" Pepper cried like a child who wants back her candy.

"Natasha?" Jane creased her forehead, putting her own glass down in wonderment.

"She calls me that when she doesn't want me to do the right thing. Right, Virginia?" Looking straight into Pepper's eyes, Natalie replied, her tone rather strict.

"Stop calling me that!" Pepper protested loudly and reached out to get her glass back.

"You first." Nat demanded with an uncompromising expression.

However, instead of answering, Pepper suddenly focused her attention elsewhere. "Hey!" She cried out and pointed at Eric, who was approaching the jukebox with some change in his hand. "Don't even think about that, dear!" She shouted and finally wrenched free. "Come on." She ordered and grabbed Jane by the wrist. And sighing, Jane gave in, pleading Natalie silently to follow. Luckily, she did.

"Listen, Pep, maybe we really should slow down." Jane pointed out carefully upon reaching the jukebox. "I'm sure Tony's going to blame me and Nat when he finds you – "

"Tony, you say?" Pepper let out a short snort, raising her eyebrows. "Well, then let me tell you something about my dear husband-to-be. He obeys just one rule in his life. And that is: 'I do what I want.' So, he wants to play poker because of some stupid bet and let me be alone the entire evening? Okay, fine. But then I mean to do what _I_ want with my time! And now I want to have fun."

"Pepper, please…" Natalie sighed.

"You know… And why not?" Jane shrugged, realizing that Leonard did just the same. Since they'd entered the pub, he turned his attention completely away from her. What did his secret looks matter if they were just looks and nothing more? And then he left to gamble for the rest of the evening. _So what_, Jane decided and finished her glass in two quick gulps. "So, what's it going to be?" She asked.

"Hey, darling! '_Anyway You Want It_'!" A man shouted from the crowd that had gathered around the bar in the meantime.

"Shut up!" Natalie shouted after him, arms crossed before her. "Go on, Pep, choose something. The crowd's getting nervous." She murmured then, leaning over slightly, but not turning her look away from the people.

"Whatever." Pepper replied calmly. "Haven't you heard, Nat? I do what I want tonight."

"Actually, I'd like that song." Jane pointed out.

"No, no, no, sweetie. I'm in a mood for some Jay Kay." Pepper muttered, focusing on searching the list.

"You know… You can put the songs in a queue here." Jane advised carefully.

"Shhh, just a second." Pepper raised a forefinger to silence any further comments. "Now, here we go… What was the song you wanted again? Wait, I know – '_Anyway You Want It_', anyway you… now, that's over here… aaaand… yeah, call me your DJ tonight." Pepper finally looked up, a victorious smile on her face. "Come on, it's funky time!" She exclaimed, taking Jane by the hands, and started toward the dance floor. But then she stopped abruptly and turned back, bumping into Jane as a result.

"Oh, sorry!" Pepper apologized and bent down. "Just one thing. Could you please hold me for a while?" She asked with a mischievous smile, held on Jane's forearm and reached down to undo the straps on her shoes. She took them off, leapt to the bar and sat her black high-heels on the desk. "Please, sir, will you keep them safe?" She called after the poor bartender. But the man just smiled, picked up the shoes and hid them somewhere under the bar. Jane wondered what the man would demand to give them back again.

However, there was not much space for any other thoughts as in the next second Jane found herself on the dance floor, moving to the rhythm of _"Canned Heat"_ by Jamiroquai. It was one of her favorites, Jane could not deny it, and whenever she recalled the verses, she sung the lyrics along with Pepper, who seemed to know the whole song by heart.

Luckily, Jane had no time for feeling awkward this time. She usually needed to get into a considerably more cheerful mood just to run to the dance floor and frolic like this. She considered herself an introvert; a closed and shy person who was always rather self-conscious about her dancing skills. But with so much positive energy radiating from Pepper and all the people around, Jane just could not help it but relax and give in to the music and merriment. Furthermore, Pepper seemed to have the time of her life, and it felt just perfectly fine to Jane that they sung together, held hands and jumped around like two silly teenage girls. It just did not matter, they were having fun, it was their moment, and it felt amazing. And when _"Anyway You Want It"_ began, Natalie with Eric and Tek joined them. Darcy came, too, but Jane just did not mind. The people around got crazy and they all screamed the lyrics at the top of their lungs. They danced all together first, then Jane was snatched by Tek, then by Eric and then by Pepper again. She was singing and shouting and laughing and all the troubles just left her mind. The world outside stopped existing and there was just her surrounded with friends. And after another song (or two, or three, she wasn't sure) Jane had to loosen her hair while visiting the restrooms as her bun had almost completely come undone.

However, when she returned to the main room, a slow song was being played and Jane found out that her friends were at the table again. And when she was passing by the bar, to her astonishment she noticed Tony Stark, Clint and Leonard standing there ordering drinks.

_They're back…_ Jane's heart raced. She slowed her pace, hoping to catch some words, or perhaps that Leonard would finally speak to her himself, but the three men remained standing with their backs turned to her and Jane just did not feel like shaking them by the shoulders to earn their attention. In the end she just passed by and sat down by their table. But as soon as she took her seat, the guys at the bar took their drinks and followed her.

"They look all somewhat torn, don't they?" Eric asked, leaning over to Pepper. She was watching Tony with curious eyes.

"Yeah." Pepper inclined her head to the side. "Could it be that the guy who intended to get rich tonight beat them all and won the prize for himself?"

"Now, that would be something. Oh, their poor ego…" Tek grinned as the men ambled closer, talking to each other quietly. When they finally stopped by their seats, Darcy lifted her dark eyebrows in anticipation. "So?"

"So what?" Leonard asked, not looking her in the eyes. He sipped at his drink and sat down slowly.

"What – what? What's the outcome? Who's the winner?" she insisted heatedly, stood up and propped her arms on the table desk.

"Well," he said, running a finger up and down his glass, watching it intently. Then he snorted out a short laugh. "I'm just trying to find the proper words."

"Come on." Clint patted him on the shoulder from behind. "There's no shame in it. Right, Stark?"

"Yeah." Tony made a tired face and rolled his eyes. "Go on, just admit the truth, bla bla bla... Everyone has to say it sometimes, so please don't play a wounded unicorn."

"Did you guys get hit in the head or what? Who's _won_?" Darcy cut in loudly, "Tell me now!"

"I know, right?" Leonard looked up accusingly at Tony, ignoring Darcy's prompts completely. "I just… No, I won't. It's cruel. It's inhuman. I won't do it. You can't make me."

"Oh-hoh, be sure we can, sweetie." Clint purred evilly. "You agreed with the terms. You can't take it back now."

"But what?!" Darcy almost shouted now, a smile threatening her lips as she smelled victory.

"All right," Leonard sighed. "As you wish. You want to torture me? Fine. Do as you please. But don't weep over me when you see the outcome." He stated firmly and finished the whiskey in one swift gulp and sat the glass back on the wooden desk forcefully. "So. I'm afraid that…"

"What?" Darcy asked again, a lot quieter this time, and Jane and the others leaned closer at once.

Leonard looked up then. He gazed straight into Darcy's eyes. "I'll have to ask you to sing for us, Darcy." He said simply. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Darcy's eyebrows just twitched lightly at first, and then came crushing together. "What did you say?"

With one hand in his pocket and the other holding the glass of whiskey, Tony turned away in that moment, clearing his throat and biting on his lower lip to hide the smile. Clint sat down, pursing his lips, his eyes watching the golden liquid in his glass.

"Any song you like. I'll leave the choice up to you." Leonard repeated quietly, brushing his fingertip over the rim of his glass.

"But… " Darcy was frowning deeply now, as if this was just a bad joke, a mere complot against her. Biting and pursing her lips, Jane dropped her look.

"The truth is I have won, Darcy Lewis." Leonard said calmly, his eyes burning into Darcy's. "Now, there's a certain bet to settle, if I'm not mistaken."

"But… I…" Darcy just kept opening and closing her mouth in consternation. And when the three poker players laughed openly, giving high fives to each other, she apparently had enough. She snorted, fuming. "Listen, you monster. You want me to sing?"

"Yes, please." Leonard nodded with a joyful smile. "Have you chosen a song for me? Think quickly, the band seems to be coming back." He said, tilting his head to the stage.

"And you know what?" Darcy snapped. "I'll do it. You wished for that."

"No!" Jane suddenly awakened, realizing which song Darcy had in mind.

"Oh yes." Darcy nodded her head, looking at everyone at the table. "You can't stop it. Please, bear with me."

"Darcy, please." Jane whined, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Sorry, Jane. A bet is a bet." Darcy threw up her arms, turned from the table and marched to the stage.

"No. No, just – Eric, say something." Jane pleaded, watching Darcy retreat.

"I guess no one can stop it now." Eric shrugged, grinning merrily.

Jane sighed. No, she did not mind Darcy's terrible singing. In fact she could let Darcy sing as long as her lungs worked, but only so long as Leonard was not present. Yes, precisely. The thing Jane was truly mad about was that Darcy was and would be getting all his attention again.

Turning her head away, Jane sighed. _And perhaps I'm finally drunk. Those are childish thoughts._ She mused. _Why can't I have just fun like the others?_ She thought as she watched everyone around their table chatting lively and joking about the situation. Clint, Tony and Leonard were recapitulating the game, laughing and patting each other's shoulders each time they recalled an interesting or funny situation. Clint then sat down on the table desk to earn everyone's attention, and started to explain Leonard's tactics. It sounded like something quite close to admiration.

_What a sudden change…_ Jane thought, observing Clint, but not really listening to him. It appeared that Leonard had a very good ability to attract people, regardless if they were men or women. Even the cool and calm Hawkeye seemed to have been seduced by this magic. _But what about me? Is he just playing with me, too? What if he just enjoys getting my attention and waking my nervousness when he's around?_ Leaning her elbows on the table and turning her stare to the stage, Jane sighed heavily. She realized she did not want to listen to Clint's rant. And she refused to look upon Leonard. Why should she? He was neglecting her the entire time. In fact, she regretted telling Pepper and Nat she liked him. It felt just awkward now. And embarrassing.

A stir down on the stage stopped Jane's thoughts on the matter. Obviously, the needed rearrangements for the chosen song were done.

"Hey everyone. One, two, three…" Darcy greeted into the microphone, testing it at the same time. Her dark curls flowed about her and shone nicely in the spot light. Perhaps too nicely for Jane's liking. Darcy was turning around to the band members as they were returning to their places, sipping water and adjusting the cables.

"So dearies," Amy the bass player spoke to the audience. "I hope you're ready for some thrill." She looked around and smirked. "Let's get insane, guys." She teased, darting a quick look at Darcy. "Here comes Darcy… with the '_Psycho Killer'_." She announced darkly. "Come on, make some noise for the girl!"

Darcy rolled her eyes at first, but smiled as the people beneath the stage and up around the tables cheered. Amy kicked off her shoes, nodded at her boyfriend behind the drums and let the first sounds fill the room.

"Okay guys." Darcy bowed her head and put one hand on the microphone. "This song was meant as a prize for that guy up there." Gesturing at Leonard, Darcy explained, her words falling into the rhythm of the song intro. "Serves you right, sweetie. Let's do it."

Jane knew and liked this song, and needles to say she preferred the original version. Darcy was out of tune too frequently, however… it was obvious that this song was not about being in tune but rather about the performance itself. Everyone seemed to be perfectly content with it – the people on the dance floor cheered and swayed back and forth and some even tried to sing along.

Leonard with Clint and Tony had stood up to have a better view. They had their arms crossed in front of them, poking each other with their elbows, chuckling and chatting, clearly judging the performance.

Amy helped Darcy with her voice a lot during the choruses, and somehow it worked out. People under the stage ended up shouting the lines with them, dancing and jumping and clapping their hands.

Eventually, Darcy happily managed even the French ending of the song and earned herself a thundering applause. Even Jane had to admit it wasn't bad at all and stood up and cheered with the others. She even felt her lips curl up into a friendly smile as Darcy had fought her way through the crowd and came back to their table. However, the smile froze right away as Leonard stepped forward, reached out to Darcy and wrapped his arms round her. He was saying some words, but Jane could not hear them.

They were not meant for her, after all.

Jane lost the focus for a moment, the image blurring before her. So much for Pepper's splendid plan… She felt so stupid for telling them about her feelings for Leonard. She felt so stupid for even having any. Because it was clear now that everything she had thought to be real was just her fantasy. Just a wishful thinking.

She looked around then. Pepper was hanging on Tony's neck now, Clint and Leonard were talking enthusiastically to Darcy – and the latter seemed to enjoy every bit of it. Eric and Tek were sprawling in their chairs, observing everything with a weary smile, and Natalie… Natalie was gone somewhere.

_How come I feel the worst loneliness in the middle of a crowd, surrounded by my friends?_ Jane thought with a little, bitter smile touching her lips. _Then perhaps it's time to go home? I wonder who'll notice me gone first…_She shook her head internally, smiling even wider.

Back on the stage, the musicians dispersed, checking on the chords and cables on their instruments. Finally, Amy stepped up to her microphone again. Jane wondered if another volunteer would be asked to come forth. An amusing thought reached her. _Would they notice if I volunteered? What should I sing, though..?_ Jane wondered, and couldn't help herself but think only of nasty songs. She snorted. _That's laughable. I would start trembling uncontrollably even before I set my feet on the stage._

"Now then, we're still in the mood for one or two of you, darlings. What do you say?" Amy teased the crowd and managed to earn some noise, but no raised hands so far. Against her better judgment, Jane was still toying with the thought of trying it herself, but then Darcy caught Leonard by the forearm and tried to lift his hand up. He refused to obey the prompt with a silent, amused smile. Yes, Darcy let go after a moment, but just to flail her own arms and shout "Heey! Over here! This guy!" She cried out as if someone's life depended on it.

"That guy, really?" Amy purred from the stage, seemingly nicely surprised. Then she inclined her head focusing her eyes. "But we met before, right?"

Once again, Leonard shook his head, crossing his arms, but smiling politely.

"But what's that? Come on!" Pepper moaned in irritation, frowning. Her eyes were skipping from the stage to Leonard.

"Yeah, go on, man." Clint urged, poking Leonard with his muscly elbow.

"Leonard!, Leonard!" Eric begun, banging his hands against the desk, and one by one, their little company took on the chant. Jane, on the other hand, sat still and stiff. Her heart was pounding too wildly to even try and move.

There was a strange look on Leonard's face – something between light enthusiasm and embarrassment. His gaze went down as his smile transformed into something very close to that wonderful, cute expression he had showed upon their meeting a few hours before. Watching that, a warm sensation ran down Jane's spine unbidden, but she just could not help it.

Then he raised his head and their eyes met. It was only a split second, but Jane thought her heart would hammer its way out of her chest right there.

She felt petrified, unable to do anything, anything at all. He watched her for this short, elusive moment, and then cast his look down again. His expression changed, Jane managed to notice before he turned from her and walked slowly to the wide stairway, across the dance floor, and up to the stage.

_Wait, was… was he expecting something? Did he want me to encourage him like the others did? Did he want me to show some interest?_ Jane panicked internally. What if _that_ was the real reason the whole time?! What if he only was expecting _her_ to start talking to him, to look at him?

Jane felt tears welling in her eyes_. No, this just cannot be_, she thought, hung her head and slid her thumb under the pearl string around her neck. _What if it's been me the whole time? What if it's me who spoiled everything? No, no, no, it's his fault, his alone. He's the one overlooking me._ A single, lonely tear rolled down her cheek, as lonely as herself. She wiped it out quickly. No one noticed.

She woke up of sorts as Eric started to talk to her all of a sudden. _So at least one person sees me._ Jane mused, looking everywhere but not at her mentor. After a while, she realized she was not even listening to him. Not that his words were too clear, anyway. Was he comforting her? Who could tell…

A repeated thud sounded from the stage and Jane turned her head automatically. She saw Leonard adjusting the microphone, surrounded by Amy and her brother, both of them holding acoustic guitars in their hands.

"So, uh…" Leonard began, looking around the room, "hey, I'm Leonard and… It's true that I contributed to the fun here in the past." He paused as several people from the audience shrieked in agreement. "I see that you remember, that's fine, that's very good. Um… was it okay?" Creasing his forehead a little, Leonard asked the part of the crowd that remembered him.

"Yeah!" they shouted in reply, some of them clapping their hands.

"Goodness, that's great to hear, thank you." Leonard smiled, the microphone transmitting the sound of his breath as he chuckled merrily. And despite her angered and saddened self, Jane had to love the way his voice filled the space. It felt wonderful just to listen to him talk, no matter what he was saying in truth. He could have been reading the TV program and Jane knew it would sound like the sweetest song to her.

"So, the last time I performed right here," Leonard resumed, "I asked the dear Monsters if they could play a certain song. Surprisingly enough, they couldn't, however – " he chuckled again as Amy held him by the neck playfully. "However," he stressed out once more as Amy let go of him, "they made certain amends and rehearsed at least the acoustic version. So, we're going to continue in this lightly French mood it would seem. Here's one of my most favorite songs by Megadeth. It's called '_A Tout Le Monde'_."

Jane thought for a moment. She had probably heard this song many times back at the college, but she was not sure whether she would recognize it in this version. Anyway, she turned her chair to the stage, straightened her back and waited impatiently for Leonard and the two musicians to begin.

The guitars started alone, and from the very first notes Jane recalled the melody and remembered that it was a wonderful song, indeed. The sound of the two instruments singing together and completing each other was enchanting, but then Leonard bowed his head to the microphone, his eyes closed, and begun to sing. His voice was low and deep, and Jane felt as if the melody reached right inside her mind and soul.

It was overwhelming. Unlike the original version, his voice was smooth and gentle, and yet intense enough to catch everyone's attention, tease and bewitch all the people's thoughts and stir their emotions as the melody escalated to the chorus. Here the song became intense and insistent, just as his voice. The mood of the song roughened, but the French lyrics flowed incredibly smoothly out of his vocal chords. In the end, the whole performance felt like Leonard enchanted them all, embraced them with invisible arms and took them to the places unknown, deep inside his troubled mind.

Jane dared not guess how many fears and demons lived there, hints and glimpses from the hidden past that surely haunted him every day and night. All she could tell that it was amazing, overwhelming and terrifying, all at the same time. The song ended with the last, soft lamentation of the guitars, and a complete silence followed.

Then the audience burst into a true roar of applause – Jane found herself jumping up and clapping her hands, smiling and laughing and shouting with the others. Clint started to bang on the table desk, yelling for more. Jane had to giggle at that, but soon he was not alone demanding an encore. Pepper was jumping and clapping her hands crazily, squirming out of Tony's grasp each time he tried to calm her down a bit. Eric and Tek were whistling loudly, supporting each other so they would not fall into their chairs again.

Shaking her head and grinning, Jane observed her friends and felt good once again. Darcy got obviously lost somewhere in the middle of the crowd below, cheering and screaming. Eventually, Jane picked up the chant as the entire pub cried for another song.

Back on the stage, Leonard was standing with his hands on his head, observing the uproar with disbelief. Amy and her brother were waving back at the audience, smiling and shaking their heads. Eventually, the three of them got together and walked out of the lights to talk to the rest of the band.

After that, the crowd started to gradually calm down, so the musicians had some peace to talk and tune their instruments under the partial cover of the shadows. Jane realized she was thirsty and asked Pepper and the others if someone wanted water as well. And even though Eric shook his head, Jane was determined to bring him a bottle, too. Pepper went with her, still smiling and still barefooted. "That was amazing." She blurted and leaned against the bar when they reached it. "Tony told me Lenny could sing, but this…"

"Yeah." Jane sighed and placed the order. "Where's Natalie, by the way?" She asked, looking around and searching the room for the woman.

"She had an urgent phone call or something. Whatever." Pepper replied and laid her head on the desk. The bartender almost sat the bottles with the straws on her tousled, golden-and-red locks. "Oh, sorry." Not raising her head up, Pepper just turned her eyes to the poor lad, and slurred with a wicked smile.

"Sorry, um… I'll take her to the table right now, um… sorry." Jane smiled awkwardly, gathered the three cold, slippery glass bottles, held them all in one hand by the necks and then slipped the other hand under Pepper's arm to guide her back, trying not to notice the presence of all the smart phones aimed at them. Pepper purred in annoyance, but in the end submitted and let herself be led away from the bar. However, she bent down after the first two strides, leaned in and laid her head on Jane's shoulder, causing the shorter woman to stagger. The flashes from the smart phones shone. _Great_, Jane thought. _The quickest way how to unwillingly appear on facebook and youtube._

Back at their table, Jane realized Clint and Tek were missing. She shook Pepper off her shoulder and let her fall unceremoniously back on Tony. _Embarrassment completed_, she thought and sat the bottles on the table desk, one in front of Tony, one in front of Eric. The third remained in her hand.

Jane sighed heavily, took out the straw and gulped a good half of the bottle at once. She then just breathed, checking the stage for any changes. Nothing particular was happening there, so she looked for Darcy and Natalie. The red-head was nowhere to be found. Apparently she had lots of important matters to discuss this evening. Darcy, on the other hand, was standing right under the stage, accompanied by Tek and Clint.

Jane walked to her seat, put one hand on the backrest and hesitated. Seeing Darcy like that… Jane felt she must do something, to walk down to the dance floor and stand under the stage… to simply _be_ there, so that Leonard could notice her. Oh yes, she should, she definitely should do that.

Jane even made the first cautious step forward, but in the meantime, Leonard was back in the spotlight and The Monsters with him. People swarmed around the stage and in a blink of an eye, the whole dance floor was crowded. Jane's heart sank a bit lower at the sight. The moment was gone, she missed the chance to get as close as Darcy. Sighing, Jane finished her bottle and walked to the broad stairway at least. She stopped beside small wooden handrail and folding her arms before her, she leaned her side against it.

Leonard tapped at the microphone. "Hey darlings." He said with an unfathomable smile. The crowd hummed with appreciation, some people raised their hands and some of them even clapped.

"Thank you for waiting patiently," he continued. Just then Jane noticed he had undone the upper buttons of his green shirt, and could not repel the silent wish he took it away completely. But then she found herself staring at him too openly and dropped her gaze for a moment.

"Well, before we begin, I have a few questions for you." Leonard announced, took the microphone with him and stood at the edge of the stage. The audience held breath.

"Is there anyone in here who likes…" Pausing deliberately, Leonard looked around the room, his eyes glittering. "…making some noise?" he finished, raising his voice just a little. The people screamed at that. Jane smiled. It was obvious Leonard knew how to handle audiences.

"All right, all right." Leonard nodded then, turned and made a few strides along the edge. "Second question. Is there anyone who likes…" he paused again, but kept walking. Then he stopped abruptly and darted a shocked look into the crowd. "What..?" he asked someone in the audience, narrowing his eyes. The crowd hummed with chuckles.

"No, no," he chuckled, "I meant to ask… Who likes to jump?" Leonard resumed then, his voice a bit more intense again. Some people cheered at that, raising their drinks in the air, and the young women right in front of the stage actually began to jump.

"Why, that's acceptable." Leonard turned and strode back. "And now, who likes traditional music?" He stopped there to examine the people's reaction as there was a suspicious silence. "What? Nothing?" He asked, playing confused. "Well, and what about the Irish traditionals?" he smiled as the audience started to respond again.

"Okay, very well. Then I hope you won't mind one nice Irish traditional," Leonard wondered as he returned to the stand. "But to be honest, I'm especially keen on a certain cover version of this old piece." He said, raising his eyes to look upon the people. "Here's _Whiskey in the Jar_, hope you like it."

Right after he finished the statement, the people started to scream, followed almost immediately by the first growling sounds of the guitars. The shouts and screams melted into the melody as the music flooded the room. Gesturing with his hands, Leonard prompted the audience to jump. The people obeyed his silent command united as one and unleashed a pure madness. The liquid of countless drinks being spilled at once took to the air. Jane took a swift step back in reaction to that, smiling widely, and leaned against the wall.

As Leonard started to sing, the audience yelled the lyrics with him, and even if she was not too familiar with the text, Jane found herself singing as well. It felt just amazing. The entire world suddenly melted into a whirl of blurred lights and shade, and the only thing that existed was the song being performed, and most of all, Leonard's voice.

Like before, he was telling a story, but this was a story of a different kind. This was lighthearted, full of life and life's irony. Furthermore, during the choruses and the final verse Amy added her vocal to Leonard's, and their voices wove together in a perfect harmony to bring a brand new quality to the song. But above it all and it its true essence, the performance was as wild as it was sincere. Jane just knew that all the musicians were giving the very core of their hearts into it. And as before, Leonard had no difficulty in seizing both the attention and the heart of his audience. Jane caught herself grinning and biting her lip as she watched him take a bottle of water, gulp half of the contents and pour the rest over his face and hair. However, he slipped out of his shirt completely then, and had Jane giggle and cover her mouth. It was obvious that the people were his, and Leonard knew it and enjoyed it to the fullest. It was fascinating to explore his personality from this point of view, too. He seemed to have the time of his life, and somehow, this joyous mood of his was extremely infectious.

When the song ended, Jane just smiled and shook her head at his looks. His raven hair was tousled and stuck all over his blushed face. He was smiling, laughing and thanking everyone as the screams and cheering and clapping of hands seemed to have no end. Jane joined the applause, too, but not only because of his performance. As she watched him, she was congratulating him in her thoughts for being happy this night, and wishing silently it would last.

As the uproar started to calm down again, Leonard decided to thank the band members for the fifth time at the least and leave the stage, not caring to take his green shirt with him. And then Jane found herself watching a scene she knew she had just lost the chance to be a part of. The first person to welcome him on the dance floor under the stage was her friend. Her best friend Darcy.

Jane just watched them smile and wrap their arms around each other while the people cheered again. In the meantime, the band announced they needed to rest. Someone got to the jukebox then and the music started to play, and Jane just stared helplessly as people streamed around her, just passing by, immersed in lively chatter. Yes, it was all she did. She just watched as her best friend danced with Leonard, with the most wonderful person Jane had ever met, with the guy Jane wanted to spend all her time with. From now until…

_Never_.

Cold had engulfed her heart, and Jane shivered. The pure joy and happiness for Leonard was transformed into utter despair and feeling of betrayal so deep and stinging that it had tears well up in her eyes. She turned away from the scene, covered her mouth to hide the sobs and ran to the table. And not exactly knowing how, she finally managed to find her jacket under her seat, pick up her purse and march out of the place.

By that time, another emotion seized her. She felt full of rage and anger, unsure at whom she wanted to aim it. At Darcy? At Leonard? At Natalie and Pepper? At _everyone_?

_No_, Jane shook her head wildly. She knew she was already mad with someone else entirely, someone very close at hand.

She hated that weakness, that helplessness, that stupid inability to decide. She just hated herself.

* * *

><p>Jane took a deep breath of the midnight air and folded her arms tightly around her. It was quite cold outside, so cold she could actually feel it, even if her mind was preoccupied with everything else apart from weather.<p>

Her first, long glance belonged to the stars. The ever true, loyal, eternal companions. Only they were allowed to see her tears; she dared not reveal them to any other living soul. She closed her eyes then. The sobs faded away, and she used the edge of her sleeve to dry the salty traces on her cheeks and jaw, hoping against hope her mascara had survived.

Only after that she managed a sigh and a look around. A few people accompanied her before the entrance, she realized, and like her, they seemed to be taking a breath or two of the fresh air before heading back home… or back to the pub. But that was not an option for her.

A soft clicking sound drifted to her and then she smelled smoke.

Disconcerted, Jane turned to the guilty one. At first, the guy seemed not to register her presence at all, but then their eyes met for a split second. First he averted his eyes, as if just checking if she had something to say or not, but then he took the cigarette out of his mouth and viewed her again.

"Hey." Jane uttered politely, but cautiously. _This man…_ She frowned a little, but then had to incline her head in wonderment. "Javier?"

"Hm." Frowning as well, the man gestured at her with the hand that held the cigarette. He looked like he had a word right on the tip of his tongue. And then he said it. "Jane, is it?" He guessed. "I saw you inside just a moment ago. And I thought I might know you."

"Yes." Her eyebrows went up. "Yes, I think you do, actually. It's been… some two years ago? Is it possible?"

"Seems so." The man answered with a smile. "We had quite an interesting debate with you, is that right? Right here, in this pub. Ah, wait. You mind the cigarette, yes?"

"Well, no, I…" Before she could say something like 'It's ok', he threw the freshly lit cigarette away. "You didn't have to." Jane commented.

"Nah, that's okay. Have a whole pack of them." Javier shrugged, putting his hands into his pockets. He had skin of a light shade of bronze, and dark, curly hair. He wore black jeans, blue shirt and a black jacket. His hair was shorter than Jane remembered, but otherwise he almost hadn't changed.

"Well it's… it's been a long time. But I was actually thinking about you this evening." Jane told truly.

"Oh." Javier showed a soft smile. "I guess I should count myself lucky then, having ladies such as you thinking on me."

Jane laughed with him. "Actually I just remembered that night… It used to be so different here back then."

"Yes, indeed." He sighed. "But you seem to have stayed here, right? What is it that holds a scientist of your intellect in this end of the world?"

"You know, we have the research facility out of town… down there." Jane gestured vaguely.

"Yes, I know. Still researching the second Tunguska?"

Jane giggled again. "No. Uh… it doesn't seem to be the case."

"Yeah, we all knew."

"You're forgetting Dima." Jane pointed out. "Did he write the paper?"

"Why, he published it." Javier smiled, sighing and looking up at the sky. "Haven't you read it?"

"Oh… well, I…"

"It's okay. Me neither." They laughed again.

"And may I ask what brings _you_ here?" Jane asked, the smile still on her lips.

"Hm." Javier rubbed his chin with one hand. "I guess I'm like a criminal."

"Criminal?" Jane's eyebrows climbed up.

"Yes. I guess I'm just returning to the old crime scenes. Tracking my footprints into the past, doing some recapitulation…"

"This sounds so serious." Jane crossed her arms before her tightly, clutching at the edges of the sleeves of her black jacket. It was cold.

"Well, serious things happened to me." Javier sighed, looking up into the sky. "My girlfriend and I decided to go separate ways for some time. We went to travel and think… And when we meet again it'll be either break-up or marriage."

Jane nodded her head, thinking of suitable words. "That's what is called a dynamic relationship?" She said at last.

"Yeah." Javier snorted, reaching into his pocket for the pack of cigarettes. But then he realized he threw the last one away because of Jane's presence and let the pack slide back again.

Then they fell silent for a moment, just staring at the sky. Javier turned to her, shrinking a bit. "It's getting cold, don't you think? Let's come inside and have drink. It's on me. But nothing that would ruin me, please. I was already planning to leave as I had been robbed during a poker game. By your friend, I think. He seemed to belong to your little company."

"So it was you who played with them?" Jane's eyes widened.

"Yes, unfortunately. But I'm not ashamed to have lost against him. He was like a magician, I've never seen such a style. He seemed to be lost, but in fact he was just getting us all into his trap." He shook his head in admiration. "But I'm ready to forgive him just for that performance."

"Uh… yeah. It was good." Jane dropped her look.

"Yeah. So, are we heading back?" Javier offered, turning to the door.

Biting her lip, Jane thought. _Actually, why not?_ She hadn't seen Javier for so long and they had so many things to talk about… And surely no one had the right to feel uncomfortable with it. No one had had expressed any objection when she left, no one of their company seemed to be missing her. Not even Eric.

Not even Leonard.

She knitted her eyebrows together. No matter how she tried, she just could not place Leonard's strange attitude. He was just… weird. Mr. Cool and Perfect-at-Everything. _He's a jerk_, she decided. "Actually, I… I think I'll go home. Yeah. I'm just terribly tired." Jane heard herself say in the end.

"Oh." Javier looked somewhat disappointed. Well, why wouldn't he? He surely expected some talk and fun. "I see." Looking down, he continued. "So… As for me we can go, if you wish. Do you have everything? Perhaps you should say goodbye to your friends."

"I guess I'll text them when I'm home. That's enough." Jane retorted with a new determination.

"As you wish. They're your friends." Javier shrugged. "So, is it far where you live? Or are you still living in the trailer?"

"You remember even that? You haven't even seen it!" Jane marveled.

"Sometimes my memory is selective for details." He explained, enjoying Jane's surprise. "So?"

"Well, some details do not change." She said with indifference, but then smiled. "No, I'm kidding. I bought a house in the end. I live there with Darcy. You remember her as well?"

"Ah… No. But I recognized Eric." He admitted and then gestured with his chin. "There seems to be a cab over there. Shall we take it?"

"Sure." She chirped, but as he raised his hand to earn the taxi driver's attention, Jane felt a strange hint. Perhaps she should return inside instead. She did not know this man after all. But… _Hey, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. I always have._ She decided against her better judgment stubbornly.

The cab approached in the meantime and Javier opened the door for her. He helped her in patiently, the closed the door, walked around the back of the car and got in beside her.

"Hey, how are you? It's been ages since I last took a taxi. I… can't even remember." Jane announced jovially as she made herself comfortable on the back seat.

"Well, it's said we cabbies are quite patient." The driver replied in good-humored manner. "Where are we going, gyus?"

"Sunny Road." Jane replied.

"Planck Street for me." Javier added.

"You stay in the dorm?" Jane's heart leapt. _Leonard's dorm… oh, stop it, stop it, stop it._

"Yeah." Javier confirmed as he was reaching inside his jacket for his wallet. "Cheap, neat, nice… bearably inquisitive receptionist…"

"Oooh, that guy." Jane giggled knowingly. The car set off.

"You know the old Joel Barnes?" the taxi driver bubbled merrily.

"Yeah, sort of." Jane sighed, remembering the previous night.

And all those memories were back again – how good she had felt, being able to talk to Leonard with no one else meddling and disturbing. It felt so right… and kind of exciting in the end. He had brushed a hair strand off her shoulder when they were saying good-bye - he had touched her, very lightly and carefully, yes, but he had.

_So why couldn't he tonight? What was the real reason? Perhaps he prefers Darcy after all. And why not – she's nice, honest and friendly and open-hearted…_

And so Jane continued her inner musings, forgetting about everything else, while Javier politely continued the talk with the taxi driver. However, after a short moment something brought her down to earth. She focused on the view from the car window and realized she could not see anything. It was complete dark outside, no street lights, no houses with lit windows. But… it should not be.

"Um… where are we now? Sorry, I got captured by my thoughts." She tried.

"Outside the city." Javier announced, his voice calm and soft as ever; as if he had just said something absolutely usual and uninteresting. But the thing was, it was everything but not usual. Jane felt her heartbeat pick up speed.

"And… why exactly? My… my house is the other way." She said in a voice so thin she could simply no longer pretend she did not care.

"Yes, I know." Javier assured softly. "I promise I'll do everything I can so you could see your house once more in the future, but I fear it's time to say good-bye to your home. You shall have a new one, though. A better one."

Jane gasped. And again, and again. It was all she could do. She attempted to say something, but she just couldn't. But then, as a bolt out of the blue, an instinct reached her. She thrust her hand into her purse, but squealed with pain and helplessness as Javier caught her wrist and twisted it unmercifully.

"I'm sorry Jane. But as you would agree," he said, his tone still unbearably calm and soft, "a certain degree of violence must be applied when you are in a hurry and need to make people cooperate." He said and produced a carpet tape.

"No!" Shaking her head with disbelief and denial, she cried. "Let me… Please!" She struggled, she fought, hit and kicked and squirmed, but all in vain. In the end she found herself reduced to a moaning thing with the tape wrapped tightly around her wrists and silencing her mouth. Tears started rolling down her cheeks, but she found sobbing incredibly hard like this. With her wildly beating heart and quickened breath, she felt she might choke.

"I'm truly sorry, Jane. " Javier repeated, inspecting the contents of her purse.

Jane shook her head, and then just stared blankly outside the window. _Okay, Jane, it's much easier to say it, but please, don't panic. Don't panic. Panic won't help you. You need to think. Just think... you stupid idiot._

But then the car came to a halt and Jane panicked for real. Her heart raced again as Javier got out of the car, taking her purse with him. He closed the door and apparently walked around the back of the car to open the door for her. To get her. However, it appeared he stopped on the way. She heard him talk. But to whom? Were there other people outside? Or was he calling someone? She listened carefully. No voices were answering him – he seemed to be talking to himself. So a phone call, all right. Sadly, she could not make out the words. But when the silence settled again, her heart galloped like mad. _He's coming, he's coming…_

The door opened and Javier leaned in, one hand resting on the top of the door, the other holding her purse. _It's open_, Jane noticed. And the thing she saw partly sticking out…

Before she could think twice, she darted forward with her bound hands first, grabbed the Taser from her purse and used it.

The expression in his eyes was just unforgettable. Not knowing where all the force came from, Jane pushed the mass of his body out of her way and leapt out of the car. She doubled over as she nearly fell, but she managed to keep the balance and ran. She ran past a shape, and vaguely realized it was another car. Her heart threatened to jump up her throat as she realized there might be sitting people, too. And even though this car seemed abandoned, Jane sped up and ran as she had never run before. Truth, it was considerably more difficult with her mouth shut and hands bound together and pressed against her chest, but she ran as fast as possible. And she knew just one thing - the darkness was her ally now. She must run to the city light, but remain hidden in the black shadows. Her body tensed like a stone as she expected the shooting.

However, it never came. Were there just the two of them? Was it their own action or did someone else organize it?

Finally the desert dirt subsided and she felt concrete ground under her feet. _Sidewalk! It's a sidewalk;_ she noted and was forced to slow down as she felt like fainting. She must get rid of the tape on her mouth or else she was going to suffocate on her own saliva and wetness from her nose. It was almost impossible to breathe now, not to mention she could at least cry for help with her mouth free.

Jane looked around quickly and kept moving within the shadows. She recognized the street – it was actually quite close to the Monster's. And another thought came in then_. Is truly no one missing me? What… what was the meaning of Clint's presence in the pub tonight? Where is he now?_ He could… no, he _should_ save her. He had to. Or Tony, the splendid Iron Man, where was he? Just where were they all?

She cut her skin open as she tried to peel off one edge of the tape, but she did not feel the pain. Instead, she watched the street, her eyes roving wildly from one spot to another, mistaking shadows for creeping figures. Strange mist lingered in the air, flowing and whirling lazily in the street lights. Jane hated herself for breathing and puffing so loudly. It felt like she was the only source of noise in this town. No, she felt like the only living soul in the town. _Where are you, people? Come on, I need you. Someone. Anyone. Please, come get me._ But wait, what was that smell? Smoke?

She looked up to examine the mist in the air, and realized it indeed was smoke. Was there a fire? What happened at all? Was her kidnapping a part of something bigger? What happened to the others? _Eric, Darcy, Leonard… Oh, if only you could see me now. I hope you're sa –_

She was not given the chance to complete her silent wish. A hand shot up to her like an attacking snake, the cold, hard fingers twisting around and squeezing her throat like serpent's coils. She clutched at the arm that had snatched her out of the sidewalk and into the darkness of the side street, digging her nails so deep into the stranger's skin she could feel the wetness of his blood wash her fingertips. But it did her no good; Jane's eyes widened as she felt the force and the terrifying momentum that sent her crashing against the wall. The grasp around her windpipe was so strong during the impact she could not hear and see for a split second. But after her senses recovered, her head turned into a resonating bell, and black splotches blocked her view. Her knees gave up.

Her hands were removed forcefully from the wrist they were digging into, and the cruel hand that had taken the air from her loosened the grip. She slid down the wall. But before she could hit the ground, she was grabbed by the hair and yanked upwards again. The man turned her and her face hit the wall this time. Jane feared she would faint for real. She could not tell if she could truly hear the stranger's voice or if she was hallucinating. However, she could make out the words. It was the taxi driver. That hearty, joyous man… _What happened to him? What made him so cruel?_

"So, little girl, do you think yourself clever? And brave?" He snorted. "But why, now the adventure is over isn't it?" he growled into her ear, pressing her against the wall. "You should remember one thing from now on. At the end of the day, the nasty girls are being caught and brought where they belong. Oh yes, bad girl. We were nice to you, truly nice, and look what you've done. What do you think I should do with you now?" he insisted, and Jane could only moan and cry her pitiful, muffled sounds. She felt disgusted and frightened and tired and weak. And useless, so useless.

"What made you think you had won? What made you think you could escape? Because you knocked him down?!" He snorted with contempt. "But then you should have done the same to me, little girl. And not just me. All of us. And could you do that, I ask you?"

_Oh, please, stop._ Jane pleaded inside. _Please let me go. Someone, please, please find me, please save me. Leonard, please… I'm here, right here. Here with this mad man._

"What do you say, clever girl?" He leaned closer still. "No, you will never run from us. Never, ever. Just remember…" his facial hair pricked her skin like tiny needles as he pressed the side of his face to hers. "Whenever you lop off one – "

However, he did not finish his statement as something forced him to hold still. He squeaked silently. Puffing heavily, Jane was trying hard to glimpse and recognize something, but her view was blocked.

"You'll regret this." An icy voice pierced the stillness. It felt familiar, but Jane could not place it.

"Let go of her." The voice commanded silently, almost softly, but the freezing cruelty in it was terrifying. The hands that were crushing her let go at once, and Jane breathed. Then the taxi driver was literally yanked away from her – it was like a huge monster had just plucked him out and up in the air. A sound of a body crashing against solid surface followed. Something crunched. Jane turned.

The man had been thrown against the opposite wall. But groaning, he was immediately struggling to get up to his feet. And the other one… Jane knew at once who he was, but she just could not believe it. _That voice…_ It just did not belong to Leonard, it just couldn't. Nevertheless, there he was, breathing shallowly and observing the struggling taxi driver as if the man was his prey.

The cabbie finally managed to scramble up. Coughing, he half-turned, leaning against the wall for support, and glanced over his shoulder. He had the strangest expression in his face – apart from deep confusion, it reminded Jane of a grin… or a smile? But whatever it was, it did not last long. The cabbie extended his hand in Leonard's direction, and then it all happened in just a blink of an eye.

Leonard made no move at first, but when the hand was close enough, he caught it by the wrist, and twisted it behind the man's back. Then he grabbed the cabbie by the shoulder, pushing his face mercilessly against the wall, and just bent the arm up, swiftly and easily, just like opening a box of cookies. A sickening crack bounced off the walls as the elbow gave in to the brutal force and collapsed.

Jane's stomach rolled over. She felt the wall behind her again, and she slid down the surface and sank to her knees, eyeing the scene with shock and horror.

A single, muted sound bubbled out the cabbie's vocal chords before Leonard brought his hand to the man's throat again and squeezed.

"Shut your mouth." Leonard whispered and yanked the man forth, and then drove his head hard against the solid surface. And again, and again. Then he turned the man around and just continued strangling him. The cabbie's legs surrendered.

In that moment, Jane awakened. She brought her hands to her face and peeled the tape of at once, no matter the stinging, burning pain. "Leonard!" she called out. Or she thought she did. Instead, a mere rasp came out. She tried to clear her throat and kneaded it with her hands. "Leonard! Leonard stop!" she cried in a very hoarse voice this time. It hurt, it hurt so much, but she had to.

"You're killing him!" Jane cried on her knees. "Stop it! Stop it, please! Leonard, please!"

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

Flicking through the images on his tablet rather quickly and methodically, Dima hurried up the final flight of steps. How many times exactly did he ascend this stairway? _Many times. Although not nearly as many as I'd wish for._ And so he went surefooted, moving effortlessly and swiftly, his feet taking him loyally up, even though he was not looking where he was supposed to place them.

Still, there obviously was something that could destroy his swiftness and balance at any time. It always came unbidden, jumping out of unexpected hiding places. He scowled at the image of the red-haired woman.

_Such a coldness._

True, some would surely call her beautiful and attractive. But not him. For him, this woman represented dark. And cold. Freezing cold that bites to the bone and never lets go.

_The Black Widow. _He snorted internally. _Where comes all the indifference in your face from?_ He wondered. _Just where?_

And how could she still retain the indifference when looking at a dying human? His father was a great man, and countless great things vanished from this world with him. Hundreds of noble deeds had never been set to motion. Was it not enough to stir people's hearts just a bit? No, apparently it wasn't. It had not moved a single muscle in the face of that woman. A wonderful person had lain dying before her, but she had just watched with her detached eyes, waiting patiently to make sure her task was completed. Her face showed nothing apart from indifference.

_You're just a beast hidden behind a cute façade. _He thought finally, resumed his ascend, and moved to another image.

_Jane_.

This one was a great deal more bearable to look upon. He actually missed this little, gentle woman, and could not wait to see her again.

_Though she won't be as pleased to see me. At least not here._

Of course not. But bit by bit, day by day, her attitude would change as she would start to understand. He had once experienced this himself. Truth, he used to have nothing – no family, and no one he could trust. Still, Dima had hated being taken from his home, from the student's life. But soon he started to realize that what he had lost was outweighed a thousand times by what he had found. _And you will, too_, he noted to himself as he examined the photo in detail, studying Jane's gloomy face and brooding gaze.

The steps were all behind him now, and just a one corridor remained. He was almost there, but the next image caught his attention again, causing his pace to slow down.

_It's him._

Dima still could not believe this was real. But it was, and now he could see it again as clear as daylight. _He's the one. He's a true prince. And you all should kneel,_ he thought, frowning at the presence of Clint Burton and Anthony Stark in the picture. Couldn't they just see? The person they were standing around, posing for the photo, was so different, so unusual – his pale, porcelain skin, the long raven hair, those eyes, green as the green color could ever be… He was perfect. He was strange. He was beautiful.

Dima felt somewhat ashamed for these thoughts. But he could not help himself. Those eyes… Did they look like that for real? Or was it just the quality of the photograph? Dima guessed he should see for himself very soon.

But now, having walked through the white corridor, he produced his ID, entered the code, and as soon as the doors opened before him, Dima entered, welcomed and swallowed by shadows as the doors came together again behind his back.

Once inside he blinked a few times, adjusting his sight to the dimness. His heartbeat got a little bit faster, he noted.

_Calm down, it's not the Viper today. She's away. This is the Captain. _Quickly, Dima soothed his thoughts. _In addition, we're aboard. That's a reason enough to bring him into a good mood._

Once on the ground, the Captain was not the easiest person to interact with. It appeared that the earth beneath his feet was driving him nervous and tense. And it very well might be just so. The Captain was a man of knowledge. It was one of the features he relied on the most. And for some reason, he felt he could know much more once aboard their flying stronghold. As he had said himself once, he felt like being nowhere and everywhere at the same time when airborne. Nowhere to be found by his enemies, and everywhere he needed to be as quickly as possible.

_Yes, it is the Captain today, not her, and we're sailing the clouds with the stars above guiding us. There's nothing to fear_, Dima breathed and stepped closer.

The Captain was standing with his back towards him. He was tall and strong, past fifty, but his body was full of life, his mind bursting out with intellect and sharp wits, his heart fuelled by ambition. His precisely trimmed silvery grey hair reflected the tiny, dimmed lights overhead. His arms were moving swiftly, deftly and soundlessly as he was going through the newest technical data obtained on the Dome Project. A holographic screen before him was alive with several three-dimensional models of an object that resembled a dome with a great thorn on the summit. The pictures were shifting and rotating at Captain's gestures, revealing their secrets from every point of view or falling apart in thin cuts if he wanted them to.

It was fascinating to watch, but Dima had a task to finish. He stepped closer still, biting his lip promptly as a dozen of most popular bawdy nicknames for the Dome Project sprang up in his mind.

"Why, I presume you're bringing no happy tidings, Lieutenant." The Captain spoke so suddenly that Dima could feel his heart leaping.

"By – by your leave, what made you think so, Captain?" Dima gave a quizzical reply.

"You've been standing here for some time now. And I still cannot hear you speaking." Captain's quiet voice filled the room effortlessly. At the end of his statement, he peeked slowly behind his shoulder. "Come closer my friend. Please, don't mind me working."

"As you say, Captain. And…" Dima hesitated, struggling with words. "I fear that the tidings in sum cannot be marked as saddening, but… they are not precisely what we wished for, either."

"Ah. Why so?"

"I received a report about Dr. Foster being captured."

The Captain let out a short, but lively laugh. "So Ms. Romanoff fell for our little trick?"

"Yes, it would seem." Dima afforded himself a smile, too. "Clint Barton as well."

"They were dangerous once. But working together, they are witless and slow." The elder man noted, his lips moving only minutely as he still seemed to be more consumed by his work.

"It might be. But a complication seems to have arisen."

"Yes?"

"According to all reports and gathered data, Javier and No. 8 were successful in seizing Dr. Foster, but not in getting out of the town afterwards."

"Are they still there?"

"Yes, Captain. We receive their readings from Puente Antiguo as we speak."

"The backup escort?"

"On site already, securing the place."

"Good." The Captain acknowledged and remained thoughtful for another heartbeat, then resumed his work. "Anything else of importance?" he asked, eyes fixated on the screen before him.

"I dare think so, Captain. At precisely the same time Dr. Foster was taken captive, we received another report. From Stark's California Experimental Power Plant."

Captain stopped all his movements and turned to look Dima in the eye.

"The Tesseract. It has… stirred." Dima revealed, citing the report exactly, the shortest report he had ever received.

"Stirred? How much?"

"Enough to drive the entire compound and the nearest surroundings to a complete blackout, it would seem. That much we could get from the satellite." Dima went on, plugging in a flash disc. A new window appeared almost immediately on the holographic screen, overlaying the Dome Project. Captain touched it, extracting the pictures. He flipped through them with a surprising haste. It pinched Dima close to his heart as he recalled all his work that had preceded this quick, silent slide show.

The greyish satellite records were soon replaced by the colorful photographs. Jane's face shone once again on him.

"It would be most unfortunate if we fail to bring Dr. Foster…" the Captain said, and then continued thinking. "Has Javier made contact with the Prince?"

"Yes, Captain. In fact, he had lost a fortune against him in a game of poker." Dima explained, trying to suppress the grin.

"An expense we can afford." Captain waved it off, studying the image of Barton and Stark leaning close to the Prince. A weak smile twirled his lips. He sighed, crossing his arms. "His strength has been silenced when he came to our world. But have no fear, Lieutenant. It remains within him, hidden and ready to burst. And it will. We and our sweet, diligent cousins of SHIELD have been guiding him with attention and care, watching and waiting. But it seems to me we've been feeding this dragon long enough. Now the time has come for him to spit some fire."

"The question is on whom." Dima speculated quickly, forgetting to think twice about his statement. He realized his excessive boldness in the moment the grey-green eyes of the Captain rested upon his, an unspoken question lingering between the two of them.

It might have lasted just a split second, but for the young lieutenant it felt like an hour of suspense and anxiety. He finally composed himself just enough to look away and open his mouth to form an apology. But he was cut off even before he managed to make a sound.

"I cannot help myself, Lieutenant." Captain's deep, melodic voice put an end to the silence. "Each time I look at you I feel like a game of chess."

"Captain?" Dima squeaked.

_Idiot. Stop behaving like a stupid little child._ He clenched his fist for a short moment. How much time and hard work, how many sleepless nights it had taken him to earn this position? He was there, yes, he made it eventually, but he was still a green novice. He must not let his attention be distracted. He must tread carefully. Agility, tenacity and precision – that were the words he repeated to himself each morning. He had been pursuing his dream tirelessly; but now as he had achieved it, he realized he must not rest. No, he must work even harder. He had always known he must not submit to any weakness, that he needed to be constantly focused and aware.

But in fact, Dima could not help it. Each time he was in the presence of the Captain, he had to think on his father. It was the sort of weakness that was nearly impossible to oppose, as it was impossible to repel the notion, even if their physical appearance differed. Except the body height, lean figure and short grey hair, they did not look similar. His father's eyes were dark, not green. But that unfathomable something in them… It was just the same. It felt so familiar. Same as the ambition, the resolve, the intellect, the ability, and the predestination to change the course of things. It all brought old memories and feelings Dima had not yet the complete control over. The sentiment certainly belonged to a human's nature, but it had no place here. He must learn how to push it away. His father was long gone, after all, and Dima was sure he wouldn't have wished to see his son losing the ground under his feet just because he couldn't control his emotions. Yes, that was it, his father was gone, but the Captain was here. And he did not need sentiment. He required loyalty.

"Uh… I still haven't found any relatives that would bind me to _that_ Mr. Kasparov, I'm afraid." Dima uttered finally. "I fear we have just the name in common, Captain."

The older man smiled. "Well, the question is, does it actually make a difference? And could it make a true difference in the game?" Folding his arms before him, the Captain nodded his head knowingly. "The name is not important when playing chess. I'm sure it wouldn't bring you any luck, Lieutenant. It is a mere interesting coincidence that would make some people twist up the corners of their mouths, perhaps. But that is all. The name would not win the game for you. It is only a word that is easily forgotten."

"On a life's battlefield it does not matter if you choose to call yourself a Shield or a Spear. The words lose their purpose quickly, Lieutenant. If you seek a true, durable advantage, you must look for solid things. Things and deeds that cannot be questioned. Not to mention that… You must be always a step ahead." The Captain concluded and remained silent for a long moment after that.

_Does he want me to react? What does he want me to say? What is he actually speaking about? _Dima panicked internally, but did a good job in hiding it. The faint light sparkled in the grey-green eyes then.

"Come with me, Lieutenant." The elder man said.

"Captain." Dima nodded and followed in his senior's footsteps. The screens vanished into the air and the room sank into complete darkness behind their backs.

They went through several dimly lit rooms and dark corridors Dima had never walked through before. Doors opened before them and closed again, lights went on and out and the colors on the walls changed from pure white to green and back to white as they proceeded. Finally, they appeared where Dima had never thought he would appear.

"These are – " stopping in the doorway, he stared at the space before him with disbelief and awe. Clearly, this was a private area. An apartment. The Captain walked in, but Dima stayed in the doorway. He gazed around the space as one half of the numerous tiny lights in the ceiling came alive and illuminated the white surfaces below softly. It was a spacious living room with two windows in one of the walls. The lights in that section of the room remained turned off, so Dima could see the faint twinkle of the stars outside.

"My private chambers." The Captain finished for him. "Please be so kind as to excuse the simplicity. I am not used to welcome many guests in here. But do come in, Mr. Kasparov."

"I… I am honored… Captain." Dima managed, and stepped forward.

"From all kinds of liquids in the world I keep just still water here… Would you like a glass?" the Captain asked as he walked over to the far corner where a white sofa and table stood.

"Yes. Yes, thank you, Captain." Dima answered, taking slow and careful steps on the soft black carpet, his head turning and eyes roving in order to absorb as much as possible. Attached to the wall opposite to the windows, there loomed two tall bookshelves. Two of the tiny lights were aimed at a large painting in between them – it showed ships with proud white sails in a lively harbor, a play of light and shade. It was a masterpiece, radiating life and warmth of the sunrise, but Dima rather chose to stand before one of the windows and admire the view of the scenery outside.

The stars were bright tonight, illuminating the black sky like billions of fireflies, distant and unreachable. When he looked down, however, he could see some of their modest, simpler sisters, the lights of the Flying Island that was carrying them above the clouds. There were many of them, but compared to the number of the lights above, they were nothing.

The Captain poured two glasses of pure water in the meantime. "Ice?" he asked then, straightening.

"No, thank you." Shifting his body weight from one foot to the other, Dima uttered as he spotted another work of art in between the windows. At first, he had thought it was just a sort of ornament to liven the white monotony of the wall, but now he could see that it had much deeper meaning. It was the organization's sign, the symbol of his new, large family. He beheld it humbly, with admiration in his eyes, as if watching an item dear to his heart.

It was a mosaic of clear crystal panes of differing shapes, gleaming and flawless, arranged in a likeness of a nine-headed dragon, its long body and slender necks twisting around a spear. Dima let out a silent breath. He had never seen the symbol pictured in such a beautiful way. Now he was even gladder that it had changed – the new order needed a new symbol, one that would represent the new thinking that was focused on the future, but not forgetting about the roots it the past. The Captain had always preferred and promoted the new sign over the old ones, unlike the Viper, who was known to look for and keep clothes with the old, horrific symbol with the skull. _But it is an offense. It is painfully unseemly of her. All the more reason why she should give up her position._

"I was wondering which work of art would win your attention." The Captain spoke calmly, waking him of sorts, and took one glass in his hand. "And I am pleased to see my guess was right." He admitted and sipped at his water deliberately, almost thoughtfully, as he watched the young Lieutenant approach him.

Dima smiled lightly as he reached the table. He took his glass and looked into it. "I was taken by surprise, I must admit. I wasn't expecting – "

"Expectations." The Captain cut him off all of a sudden, his voice rising a bit. "Wishes and presumptions. Just wouldn't the world be a much nicer place to live without those three?" He sighed, fixating his gaze on the painting of the ships. He remained unmoving, but after a long moment he finally sounded again. "You wondered if the Prince would choose to side with us." He began simply.

"I fear I might have, Captain."

"No _might have's_, my lad. I know what you said."

"Yes, Captain." Dima bowed his head in submission.

"Now, when we have agreed on what you have been thinking about, let me explain." The superordinate said and then walked over to the left bookshelf. There he laid a forefinger on the top of one of the books – a relatively tiny, green one – and pulled at it, inclining it towards him.

The painting of the ships in a lively harbor suddenly shook and shifted to the side, revealing a niche in the wall behind it.

"His memories are all that's needed." The elder man suggested calmly, as if everything was in perfect order. "And as it happens, we have a part of them in store." He announced with an undeniable touch of triumphant tone as they both gazed upon an item placed securely behind a glass pane that covered the newly exposed hiding place.

At first, Dima only knew the thing was beautiful. Not asking for permission, he made a few steps closer, to view it in detail. He gasped as he realized what he was staring at.

It was a helm, golden and shining. The reflected light danced on its surface as Dima moved even closer. At the forehead, two horns rose up and curled back at the sharp ends. They were clean and bright, the perfection of their surface undisturbed by any scratch, like the rest of the helm. It shone there, motionless, timeless, perfect and proud, speaking of glorious victories and ancient adventures and mysteries.

"This is… "

Yes, yes it was – there couldn't be any doubt now. At least not for Dima. It was Loki's helm. Their Prince's helm.

_He used to wear golden armor…_ Dima could not stop his thoughts now. He just had to imagine him, the Prince, this beautiful person, all in gold, shining and splendid amongst the mightiest of Asgard. Was there any cloak, too? A cape flowing down his wide, noble shoulders? Which color could it have been? _Oh, you fool. What else could it be?_

"Gold and green." Dima mouthed in awe.

Folding his arms tightly in front of him, the Captain displayed a light smile. "Beautiful, isn't it? In its strange, surreal way. Like a pearl plucked from the bed of the deepest ocean. Like a fallen star we have climbed the highest mountain for." He sighed shortly, weighing his next words. "I fear we still cannot count on it, but once he awakens, we shall be ready. He might find a fondness towards us in him if we have the proper gifts to offer in return."

"Captain, you – "

"Of course it would be foolish of me to think that just his helm, no matter how beautiful, will help win him to our purpose. If the legends are only partly true, he's just as unpredictable as the course of the wind. Who knows what truly was behind this quarrel that had caused him landing on Earth along with the destroyed Bifrost chamber." The captain continued. "Aye, we have a gift for him, but only a gift to begin with. The next two items, however, might very well ensure his interest in us," he stated and let a little smile play on his lips once more.

"We do not possess them yet, but that will change very soon. As I was told only a few moments ago by a certain dutiful Lieutenant," he announced, giving Dima a quick, meaningful look, "one of them is on the way, albeit unwillingly – how unfortunate. However, it seems to me…" he paused, his gaze wandering off to the windows and beyond, maybe to catch a glimpse of the sparkling blue light of unlimited power, "… that the other is trembling to be taken."

_Nicely said_, Dima should have pointed out. But instead, he remained still, letting Captain's words drift to him from behind a curtain of thoughts. The Captain fell silent as well, and marched quietly to the window. They both shared this humble, knowing silence together, one gazing at the stars, the other at another world's artifact.

Still watching the helm closely, Dima had to admit that like in the eyes of its owner, there was this unearthly, alien essence to it. The strangely beautiful way it shimmered and twinkled back at him…

Perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

And maybe it also could not wait to be taken and donned again.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

_And I choose to survive  
><em>_Whatever it takes  
><em>_You won't pull ahead  
><em>_I'll keep up the pace  
><em>_And I'll reveal my strength  
><em>_To the whole human race_

_Yes I am prepared  
><em>_To stay alive  
><em>_I won't forgive, the vengeance is mine  
><em>_And I won't give in  
><em>_Because I choose to thrive_

_(Muse – Survival)_


	13. Prisoner

**Chapter 13: Prisoner**

_Over and over again_  
><em>I relive the moment<em>  
><em>I'm bearing the burden within<em>  
><em>Open wounds hidden under my skin<em>

_Pain is real as a cut that bleeds_  
><em>The face I see every time I try to sleep<em>  
><em>Staring at me crying<em>

_(Dream Theater – The Enemy Inside)_

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

_Am I cold?_ Leonard wondered as he lay curled up and motionless on the ground.

_Maybe_, he decided as he closed and opened his eyes, staring aimlessly into the shadows under his bed. He reached out one hand, seriously considering whether he should crawl underneath. But then he gave up. The bright light that never went off was driving him crazy, but he would not bend so low as to sneak and hide under his bed, squirming like a rat. No, he wouldn't. Because it was not only the constant, accusing light - there were far worse pains and nightmares that kept his sanity occupied. Like the thing that had happened.

Yes, yes it had.

And they'd seen. Everyone had. And Jane, Jane had seen it all.

_And now they won't take their stares off me_, Leonard realized as the faint, familiar noise reached him. The surveillance camera in the corner turned and focused.

Tensing, Leonard curled up and clenched his fingers into a fist. And then, in a blink of an eye, he bolted up to his feet, seizing the chair. After its metal legs crashed against the table desk, he climbed up. It went much easier than he had expected. The camera shifted quickly to follow his movements, making quick, screaming-like noises as if in protest. But it did it no good as the mount gave up screeching the moment Leonard barely laid his hand on it, ripping it out of the wall. Just one strike was required, and the thing exploded against the grey floor in a spray of a thousand pieces. Jumping down, Leonard grabbed what debris remained, and resolved to do things properly, he smashed the remnants of the poor device against the floor once, twice, a dozen times more… and then he stopped, holding just a bundle of dead, twisted cables. He looked up, breathing heavily. The door was open.

"Needed some privacy?" Clint asked in greeting. His eyes were the same grey-blue shade as the clouds before a storm, but otherwise remained expressionless.

Breathing out, Leonard let go of the poor thing, his eyes cast down. "Yeah. That, and a few other things."

"Like..?"

"Explanations, answers…" Leonard shrugged, still not looking up. "Honest people, true friends…"

"Oh, welcome to the queue." The archer lifted his eyebrows. "You're not the only one lacking those."

Leonard just breathed in reply, letting the silence settle around.

"You're full of anger." Clint noted quietly.

_Oh yes, I am, just let me –_ "I'm fine." Leonard declared, his nostrils flaring.

"I see." Clint nodded his head, the corner of his mouth twitching with sarcasm. "Could you perhaps tell me what other things you are?"

"Will you stop asking this question?" Leonard seethed so coldly it nearly startled him. "You know the answer better than I do. Then why ask? Why?!" He shouted, struggling not to leap forward and grab Clint by the collar.

"What we know is not relevant to you. We know little and less. Much and more lingers inside of you."

"More?!" Leonard could not hold back a desperate shriek of disbelief. "More what? What is it? Why can't you just tell me?!" He screamed, darting to Clint. It required just one move – a quick one – and he was holding the archer by the throat, right under the chin. Leonard got almost surprised at how slow this agent of SHIELD moved, but only until he felt a cold blade pressed against his jugular. Their eyes met.

"Easy now." Clint whispered, barely able to move his jaw.

"Let go off me." Leonard growled.

"You first." Clint insisted, and despite the situation, his eyes remained still, motionless pools.

"Could you at least tell me what happened with the man?" Leonard demanded, showing no signs of submission. He let his stare burn into those empty, unmoved grey eyes. And then, something happened with them - a light that wasn't there before appeared for a moment.

"Come with me." The agent said.

* * *

><p>The room was simple, the light was dim. Clint's eyes shone on him coolly from across the table. Leonard drummed his fingertips against the desk and overcame the need to rock in his chair.<p>

"You wanted to know what happened with the guy." Clint recalled.

"I did." Leonard confirmed. A long silence followed. Silence that gave way to the unspoken words exchanged by looks.

"He died." Clint announced then, his voice steady and clear.

Having nothing to say to that, Leonard looked down. It wasn't that surprising after all. He suspected it all along, didn't he? _But he was hurting her. I _had_ to do something. I had to._

Before his thoughts could run wild and drive him crazy, Leonard glimpsed a movement. It was Clint, producing a small plastic bag with a metal tube inside.

"What do you think it is?" Clint asked, holding the bag up for Leonard to inspect.

Leonard shrugged. "An inhalator?" He observed, his voice quiet.

"Yeah, it looks like that. But if you push this button, a dose of hydrogen cyanide is being released. The effect is immediate." Clint answered, staring at the item with curiosity. "The guy took a lungful of this before we could as much as touch him."

_He ended it himself._ A spark of life ran through Leonard's heart. Truth, the whole situation was both pitiable and distasteful, but it was a certain relief. _It wasn't me, _he thought and laid his hands palms up on the table desk before him. The scene came forth vividly. The disgusting crunch of the elbow. Those quiet, pleading noises the stranger had been making. They were so annoying back then that Leonard wanted to smash the man's face in just to make him stop. And someone crying, desperate and terrified. No, not just _someone_. It was _Jane_. Jane, of all people, had been watching him torture a human.

How disappointed she must feel about him now? How appalled and disgusted?

"You saved her from him." Clint reminded, as if he had followed his companion's thoughts all the while.

Leonard said nothing, just lifted his stare to those cold orbs before him.

"Now, have you perchance seen this guy somewhere? Anywhere?" The agent said as he placed a large photograph on the desk between them.

Leonard frowned deeply and took the picture by the edge to draw it closer. _What_? He gasped internally. Of course he knew the man on the photo. He would recognize him everywhere. He just could not understand why would a SHIELD's agent show him a picture of – well, was it really Bret? Leonard leaned closer to take a detailed look.

No, this couldn't be his friend. The similarity was striking, but there were many differences, too. Of course, Bret was tall, well-built and muscly, but this guy was just ridiculous. The wild, angry, defiant stare was almost the same as Bret's, but other features in his face were not.

"This isn't Bret."

"No." Clint confirmed, folding his arms before him, and rocked back in his chair. His tone revealed he was waiting for more.

"Then who is it?" Leonard demanded, still studying the picture, and wrinkled his forehead as a sudden pain started to build up in his head. "Has he something to do with the… incident?"

"Not really. Still, we're searching for him." Clint explained calmly and took back the photo. "You ok?" He asked then, observing Leonard with a curiosity.

"It's nothing. Just a headache." Leonard muttered in reply, pressing the insides of his wrists against his temples.

* * *

><p>It took a noise coming from the outside of her office to help Jane realize she hadn't been really reading the text displayed on the screen before her. She looked away from the glow and noticed that apart from the light of the monitor, her room bathed in complete darkness. Was it that late already?<p>

Well, it seemed so. And again, Jane was forced to sigh, feeling weak and powerless, and sank deeper into her chair. But tired as she might be, she was determined not to let her eyes close. No, not just now, please.

But it was futile. Even with eyes wide open she could not see the room. She could only focus on something that was not truly there.

_I felt safe._ Jane recalled.

Yes, that was the only emotion she had felt at that time, when Leonard stood before her, looking at her with confusion and subsiding rage melting in his eyes. She had nearly witnessed him kill another human, but somehow, at that moment, she failed to fully grasp the notion. The only thing that mattered was that the enemy had been defeated. _Her_ enemy. The danger, the panic, the hopeless feeling that she was just a weak, pitiful being that couldn't do anything to protect herself –it all was suddenly gone. That was how Clint had found them. And that was the moment when the feeling of relief dissolved, and chaos and uncertainty took over her instead. Nothing could be seen on the outside, but Jane literally felt like she was choking, as if the hand that had held her throat just moments before was there all over again. So at first she could barely sense the gentle and warm touch of raindrops on her skin. And when she finally did, she was being ushered into a car, and a glass pane rose between her and the rain. _Thor_, a thin voice somewhere in a very dark and almost forgotten corner of her mind whispered. But the sound of it was too weak to fight her state of mind.

It seemed to her she must have replayed all those scenes a million times over in her head. But the more she was thinking about them, the more surreal and more distant they became.

But to be exact, it happened five days before. And it still felt as terrifying as the moment she experienced it, maybe even worse.

Jane blamed her imagination for that. Because it was the unknown and unseen that her thoughts and dreams were constantly eager to explore. Some people had taken her by the shoulders and led her to safety, and that was all she knew. But what happened with Leonard? And who were the men that attacked her? Jane tried, but couldn't help wondering about all the possible scenarios, even the maddest ones. And why? The answer was simple. Because she did not know anything tangible as yet, even after all those unbearably long days and insane nights. No one was able to tell her anything about him – where had they taken Leonard and why, how long was he going to stay there, why had those men been after her, what… what had actually happened…

But there was nothing. No answers to be found anywhere. The general knowledge about what was going on seemed to simply have vanished into the air, exactly as the Iron Man and then Pepper had done. And Clint and… No, not Natalie. _Natasha_ was her real name. And in fact, she was not Jane's friend. And she'd had no answers either, only questions – and especially the ones Jane could not have answered, not then, not now.

Tired of all the recurrent memories, Jane finally found any further staring into the ceiling of her office pointless. If she could not focus on her work, she should at least try and get some rest. She had been finally permitted to her home that day, after all. Perhaps she should just get up and go there. The director had reported to them that the SHIELD claimed the town and its surroundings clear, so there was nothing to fear now – or better, no further excuse to linger at the research facility tonight. Yes, that was exactly what she would do. Search the offices and the labs, try to gather her belongings and Darcy and go home. And sleep.

Jane switched on the tiny lamp and looked over the mess of papers covering her desk. Judging by the occasional yellow and orange lines of the highlighter, she assumed she must have read most of them. At least once. But trying to recall their exact content and sort them accordingly was a task outside her capability just now. She sighed again. Despite the mocking comments from the other people, Jane never considered herself an unorganized person, but at times like these she had to wonder where all the chaos and mess around her had come from. Certainly it just hadn't made itself… _Well, actually, it did. I just haven't done anything to prevent it. It's entropy._ Jane deduced, brushing the knuckle of her forefinger over her lower lip. _Anyway, I need a coffee._ She decided, and grabbing a couple of the nearest research papers, she marched out of her room.

* * *

><p>As Jane expected, it was dark down in the kitchenette. She would be alone there. <em>No more forced conversations at least,<em> Jane sighed with relief, and walked in, the papers clutched to her chest. She raised her hand and switched on the light. And then she cried out.

He shot up at the sound of her voice, overturning the chair he had been sitting on. "Oh," he muttered, turning after it, and then back to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean – I didn't mean to frighten you, I never – "

"Leonard?" She gasped then, finally able to form a word, and viewed him intently. "Where have you been? What… what happened to you?"

"I don't know, Jane, I… I didn't mean to…" looking utterly lost and confused, he kept murmuring, unable to meet her eyes. "Please, Jane, please, forgive me, I – "

Without hesitation, she gave in to the tide that suddenly rose within her and rushed over to him. Tossing the papers onto the table, she reached up and touched his face. "Leonard, look at me!" She commanded. And he obeyed. His eyes were still roving restlessly when he faced her, but then they steadied and locked with hers. And the look Jane found in there was desperate. Miserable. On the verge of breaking down.

She didn't need to take another look at his person. It all just corresponded with what his eyes reflected. His skin seemed thinner and much paler than before. His hair was loose, unwashed and tangled. A few days' stubble was brushing against her skin as she held her hand up against his cheek.

"What happened to _you_, Leonard?" Jane repeated her question. "Where did they take you? What have they done to you? That's what I was asking. Can you answer me?" She demanded, staring into his eyes.

After a moment, he breathed in and spoke. "They took me to the desert - to the headquarters I think. They demanded some answers." He said, dropping his look again.

Jane's imagination was going crazy. "Leonard, what have they done to you?"

"Nothing, they just kept asking…" Leonard sighed. "And implying things."

"What things?"

"It almost seemed to me they knew who I used to be." He murmured quietly, avoiding her gaze. "I think they intended to make me remember myself."

"And did you?" Jane gasped. "At least something?"

"Of course not." he breathed, his eyebrows knitting together as if there was a bitter taste on his tongue. "But I don't care." He continued. "I told them many times. I don't want to know. I want to live, here and now. I want _this_ life, not any other. I just want to be Leonard. I don't need the other one, and I don't care who he used to be. I don't wish to know him."

"But how can you – "

"No, listen, Jane. I know he's there. I'm aware of him. Sometimes it feels as if he were trying to break through the surface… and I…" his green eyes, fixated on something in his imagination, suddenly closed. He hung his head. "Listen to me now. Is this how a sane person speaks?"

"No… No, Leonard, stop it! And look at me!" Jane exclaimed, raising her other hand to his face. "You're not insane, do you hear me?"

"I almost killed someone." He reminded.

"But you did not!" Jane cried out, defiant and determined, her eyebrows colliding.

"Because of you."

"Not because of me!" She opposed. "The decision was yours, can't you see? If you wanted to kill him, you could have just ignored me."

"It isn't that simple."

"Oh..!" Jane exhaled, irritated, flailed her arms and looked away. "Come on, sit down." Refusing to have another meaningless argument with him, she prompted, and reached down to lift up the overturned chair for him. He sat down eventually, tuning his side to the table so he could face her.

His expression seemed very attentive at the moment, but he said nothing. His gaze, though, was meaningful enough. It was desperate, brooding and asking for help, as if something huge bothered him, something he could not solve by himself. Seeing all this, Jane made a small step closer, but suddenly not sure whether to touch him again, she just joined her hands before her.

"Leonard, first of all, you saved me from that stranger." She started, looking down on him now. "And what you did after was… was done in fury. In agony." Jane made an attempt to explain, bowing her head to observe her entwined, clutched fingers. "What do you think I would have done if I'd had the strength to oppose him?" She continued quietly. "I fear I can't say for sure I wouldn't have done the same as you did. I was… I was merely lucky to be the weak – the passive one. The one who watched it all when you came for me. But what would I have done if I had been in your place?" She asked him. Or maybe herself, too. "Now when I'm safe I may say I would never be able to kill anyone but… I fear the truth is, I don't know. Maybe no one knows this for sure. But do these thoughts make me a psychopathic killer? Am I insane? What do you think?" She demanded, studying his expression closely. She wasn't too sure where all those words had come from, but they needed to get out, and so she let them.

He averted his eyes again, and Jane felt like grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking the answer out of him, but in the end she decided to let him think it over. And her patience eventually turned out to be fruitful. After what seemed like hours of some raging inner conflict, he finally breathed in and spoke. "Perhaps you're right." He admitted carefully, quietly.

Enjoying this first small victory and relief, Jane let out the breath she had been holding, and decided to continue. "I admit… those are moments in life I fear the most. When one loses control of their emotions, of their actions. In such moments your good will is almost suppressed. It still lingers somewhere inside you, but the path to it seems too hard and difficult to take. In such moments, it is often something that comes from the outside that tells you to stop and reconsider. But it's still up to you whether you listen or not." Looking at him now, Jane could see the scene vividly once again. Leonard had seemed so determined to finish what he had begun at that time, there was no deny to that. And he could have. Jane had almost thought she would witness the kill; however, something else had happened in the end.

"I pleaded with you to stop – I asked you to reconsider." She recalled aloud. "You were given this moment – this chance – again, and you made your decision. You gave the man a hard time, yes. In the end, he was completely dependent on your choice. And what did you do?" She asked him, her voice quiet, but unyielding.

He turned from her, his eyes cast down, his figure shrunk as if he wanted to hide from the entire world. "I let him go." He breathed finally.

"You let him go." She echoed to make those words sound again, making sure they were heard, that they were real. And they were.

He suddenly raised his gaze back to her, and without a prior warning, he just looked right through her; through the flesh and bone, through all the physical and mental layers of her person. He studied her face, every line and feature of it, as if an indecipherable puzzle had been placed right before him. "Jane, what makes you say all this?" He asked finally, his tone still partly sad, but this time it was not a sign of misery and submission to despair. No, there was something more. "All this time I have feared I disappointed you, I – I was put in a cell back there and I was certain I would go mad sooner or later because all of those questions and – and pressure, and… but the worst thing of all was that you had seen what I did and you would judge me, and…"

"But I'm not. I'm not judging you. How could I?" Jane gasped with disbelief. Her eyebrows came together in confusion. "It was my fault, Leonard. It was me who ran away with someone I barely knew. I mean, what came to my mind exactly? What was I thinking?"

"Good question." He observed. "But what were you thinking about me, that's even a better one." He said bitterly.

"Leonard – "

"I neglected you when you were right beside me," he continued, not minding her wish to say something more to it. "I just let you go and be captured by a stranger, and then I made you witness this side of me… I'm sorry, Jane. About the entire evening. Somehow I let it take a completely different way than I intended. It was wrong of me."

Jane's mind was still sort of blank. She did not know what to answer. "I could have tried as well." She said finally. "Could have talked to you too, I mean. And there was the poker game."

"That shouldn't have happened. That's where it all started." He stated resolutely.

"Well, you won quite a fortune, if nothing else…"

"Yeah, I did." Leonard admitted with annoyance in his voice. "Lucky me." He nearly whispered. "It all just shouldn't have been that way. I'm sorry, Jane." He concluded and let a long moment of silence embrace them.

"Things do not always go the way we want." She said then, not knowing any better answer. "And I'm not angry with you. You saved me from that stranger and from… whatever they wanted with me." Jane concluded and remained still, forcing her mind not to recall all those moments of fear and madness. But then her eyes widened as she felt a soft brush of his fingertips against her hand.

Surprised, she inhaled and looked into his eyes. It was just a careful, soft contact, but it was simply overwhelming. Under his gentle touch, she began to open her clutched hands, and as she did, his fingers curled around hers. His skin felt cold, and yet sent sparks of warmth up her forearms.

Jane raised a hand to his face once more. And the moment she touched his skin, he closed his eyes slowly, and leaned in. This reaction startled her, but in a very pleasant way, and so - very much unable to move - she let him put his arms around her middle. Holding her gently like that, Leonard drew her closer to him and rested his forehead against her chest. For a moment Jane thought her heart would explode inside her. But it didn't, to her surprise, and so she wrapped her arms around him, too, and held him close, close to her heart. Leonard understood, and holding her even tighter, he pressed the side of his face against her skin. Shivering with this new happiness, Jane could not keep her smile from growing wider. She lowered her head to him. His hair was messy and unwashed, but she somehow forgot to care. It simply felt so right, to weave her fingers through the raven locks.

"Your heart is beating." He whispered, smiling, his facial hair tickling her skin.

Jane's pulse was hammering in her ears. "It should, I guess. Keeps me alive like that." She grinned.

"Yes, it does. And it's just wonderful to listen to it."

"Is it?" She laughed lightly, unable to believe it was all real. "And have you ever listened to your voice?" She said and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. And although she intended to say something more, she did not. Someone else entered the room.

"Hey guys!" A voice greeted from the doorway. Truth, it was a mere greeting from a person who had no idea what was going on, but still, to Jane it felt like an arrow between the shoulder blades. She wheeled about to face the intruder.

Darcy stood there and just watched at first, saying nothing. No one spoke. Then she rubbed her head and shrugged almost indifferently. Almost.

"Sorry to disturb you." She said and walked over to the fridge. She opened it, gazed at its contents for a long, tense moment, and then closed it again without picking anything. She turned around and walked slowly to the door again, her eyes studying the floor. "You know," Darcy said then, and had Jane hold her breath. "I just think you should be more careful about this stuff, right? You still have a boyfriend, don't you? The one you've been searching for so desperately for these three long, pointless years." She ventured, then turned and Jane was finally able to look into her eyes for a short moment. They were full of sadness, anger and disappointment. Even resentment.

"Yeah," Darcy sighed and looked away again. "Whatever." Waving her hand, she concluded, and walked out the room, ambling slowly.

Astounded, Jane stood on her spot petrified, unable to move, unable to speak, to think, to summon any emotion. It felt as if her mind had been just rinsed and bleached clean white. A movement woke her up. A shadow emerged from behind and passed her by. Wait –

"Leonard," she uttered finally, just before he could leave the room. But he did not turn back. He just walked away. Disappeared again.

She stared at the doorway, at the spot on the doorframe where he had touched it before he got out of her sight completely. She could not tell how long she had been staring like that, silent and perfectly still, but eventually, she breathed out and sat into the abandoned chair.

There was a cup on the desk before her. And a bit further, there lay her papers she had brought here to read. And there were other cups and mugs and glasses and plates in the cupboard on her right. And Jane knew she could just grab the cup before her and smash it against the opposite wall. She knew she could jump up from her seat, seize the idiotic, meaningless papers and rip them into shreds. She was aware she could open the cupboard and sweep all the dishes out – they would surely make a nice cacophony of crashing and breaking noises that could maybe drown out the words that kept ringing inside her head now.

Yes, Jane knew she could do that. Yet, it seemed senseless to her. And stupid. She knew it wouldn't bring her any true relief. With her mind suddenly perfectly calm and clear, she recalled Darcy's words' once more. _Long, pointless years…_

No, she wouldn't break things. Not now, not later. Because to solve this situation, she finally realized she had to do something completely different.

* * *

><p><em>Consider this question<em>  
><em>Look deep inside<br>__Deliver a true confession  
><em>_What are you willing to live for_

_Consider this question_  
><em>Open your eyes<em>  
><em>Examine your own reflection<em>  
><em>What are you willing to die for<em>

_When your back's against the wall_  
><em>And your time's uncertain<em>

_Consider this question_  
><em>No standing by<em>  
><em>When flesh and blood are threatened<em>  
><em>What are you willing to kill for<em>

_We seek_

_To understand_  
><em>We cry<em>

_With head in hand..._

Leonard mouthed the lyrics as he lay on his bed, covering his closed eyes with the back of his hand. His room was dark, only the light from the street was coming through the curtain, but even this was too much for him. He needed an absolute darkness - the sort that covers all, even the thoughts and memories. However, no matter how dark it was behind his eyelids, the things he wished not to see were shining before him, overwhelming his consciousness. He wasn't cold, still, his skin started to prickle. The other hand that lay resting on his bare chest clenched into fist. Breathing out heavily and painfully, he bent his knees and turned to the wall.

The music he was listening to was perhaps too loud for this night hour, but honestly and simply, he was unable to realize this fact, let alone care about it.

He gave the lyrics a thought. What else was his life than looking for the truth and trying to find his place in life? And was he still seeking, or rather just crying with head in hand?

If only the first statement could be true for him, as true as the second.

The metaphorical veil that kept hidden everything he was looking for was there all his present life. But it was not made of anything solid, it never felt too heavy. It was there, just before him – all he needed was to reach out his hand. It moved and waved constantly, as if inviting him in. But the closer he got, the more vividly it waved, the less Leonard was willing to discover what was waiting beyond.

Of course, he could still choose not to draw that veil aside and look behind it. Worse was the option that the person – or the thing – waiting on the other side could decide to rip this curtain apart instead of him.

And that was too terrifying to even think of.

But even if he put all this aside, Leonard had to admit there had always been a feeling of estrangement towards who he used to be. Not a single time in his life did he think about his forgotten past as something of his own, something that should be a part of him. Quite the opposite was true – in time, he had developed a complete detachment and begun to think about his past life as a story that belonged to someone else, to some stranger, someone that looks sideways at you when you pass them by on the street and you just know you should turn away and run.

Willingly or not, Leonard went through the situation again and again and had to wonder how it all was possible. That hadn't been him, the few days ago in the night. He had just completely lost control… It had been so easy to sneak upon the man, catch him completely off guard and overpower him. And hurt him.

But just how was that possible? Leonard never knew he possessed such ability. And such strength. If he was able do to that all, to kill a human so easily, just with bare hands, he had to wonder – what kind of person he used to be? A skilled murderer? A gangster? Or some organization's secret agent, like Clint? Just who he used to be?

His better judgment told him not to pursue this question any further. He realized that at this point, it wouldn't do him any good. However, his curiosity and conscience wouldn't calm down that easily.

But in the end, Leonard came to the realization once more. He decided he did not want to know the person he had been before. Never. He was not interested in that live anymore. As he had said a few hours before, he just wanted to be Leonard. He'd fought too hard and too long to win a place in this world and he did not mean to lose it again.

And yet, there were doubts about his present life, too. He tried, he struggled, he did all he could to please those who mattered to him. But for what exactly? That malicious voice inside his head had once told him he was just a substitute. Leonard had denied it, but the doubt stayed in his mind from that time on, and each time before he fell asleep, he would recall those mocking words, unable to drive them out of his thoughts.

And the truth was that sometimes he could not help but actually feel as a kind of back up – a reserve for the occasions when the one before him failed; the second in line who would happily fill the place of someone that was not present, but more important.

This was and most likely always would be the situation with Mike and Julie, who always treated him like their own son, but perhaps too much like the son they had lost.

And then there was Elliot, his beautiful, intelligent schoolmate who he had fallen in love with, and had foolishly thought she felt the same. Perhaps she had, in a way, but even if that had been true, there was still someone else in her life that was loved more.

And now Jane.

A piercing pain erupted in his chest at the thought. Why it all must have ended up like this? Her presence in his life seemed to set everything right. With her near him, every problem and doubt turned suddenly so light, almost nonexistent. Then why couldn't they just continue this, unbothered by anyone else?

Leonard recalled how difficult it had been to approach her at first. Back at the time when he had first arrived to Puente Antiguo, Jane used to let out too much of her frustration and dissatisfaction with her work. She had viewed him as someone who had come to compete with her; as her rival. But he had never intended to put himself in this position. He had come to this place to learn, to gather new knowledge and experience, to see how the science was done in this part of the world. He was determined to absorb as much as he could, but in the process, he never meant to be a nuisance for anyone. He was determined to learn things quickly, to go with the flow and be of help to his new colleagues and mentors, and it was only understandable and natural. They had invited him and offered him their care, so now it was his turn to do something for them, wasn't it? So he kept trying his best every day: he would come to work early in the morning and leave late in the evening, he would think about the research and solve problems even in his free time. He tried to use his fresh, unaffected point of view to come up with the new ideas and solutions. And many a time he succeeded, to a great pleasure of Garo, the director, and Eric, but to a rather obvious annoyance of the one he actually intended to please and help in the first place - Jane.

He had failed to understand it at first, but when he had looked for the reasons why, it became obvious. Jane was simply another one of the long row of young, motivated scientists who used to be full of enthusiasm at the beginning, but their dreams and hopes were beaten down by the indifference and conformity of this world. Jane had stumbled upon something new and fascinating, something huge and groundbreaking, and she was never afraid or reluctant to keep going and exploring what awaited her, even if many of her elder and more experienced fellows would give up on a problem of such an extent. But in time, problems kept piling up and the money flow thinning, and suddenly it all became simply too much for her. However, as much as it was obvious for everyone else, she would not admit it. She couldn't. Why, it used to be her dream. Her lifelong ambition. Something she had spent too much time studying for and working hard on, neglecting and pushing aside her own life. How do you simply give up on something you invested such a big part of yourself in?

In time, Leonard had learned to understand the reasons behind Jane's behavior and could see it all clearer every day. It had bothered him, and he had wanted to do something about it. But how could he? If he came up with something useful and achieved success, it angered her. If he did not, she was frustrated that the research was stagnating. In a way, this whole thing had become frustrating for him, too. He realized too well that considering his own scientific career, he did not want to end up like this. And to prevent it, he knew he'd better leave this place and project as soon as possible. Clearly, Garo should have been more determined to get involved in the joint project with CERN. He hadn't, and when his research group had lost the chance, he'd persuaded Leonard that even a better project was waiting for them in New Mexico. But as Leonard was allowed to judge by himself later on, it wasn't completely true.

As a consequence, during the Christmas break Leonard had seriously considered the option of not returning to Puente Antiguo. And almost everything had been in favor of that possibility. He had been with his family again, with his friends, in a place he knew and was used to, in a place that was humming with life. He even had the proper emails ready and was just waiting for the final incentive to sit down and send them. But on the New Year's Day, a surprise came in the form of a message from Jane. It was a draft of a new paper with a long to-do list attached. It might have seemed rather tedious to even go through all of it, let alone actually make it happen, but it just swept over his plans and would not let go. If nothing else, it was a clear sign that Jane was not giving up yet, that she was fighting and clinging onto a hope. And apparently, she counted on his help. There was a feeling that flooded his consciousness back then. Was it compassion? Yes, most certainly. He looked out of the window, recalling this little, determined fighter of a woman and knew he was coming back.

It hadn't been as serious as before, but Leonard could still feel a kind of detachment from Jane upon his return in January, however, there had been too much work to be done to give it more thoughts. But as the time kept pressing on, Jane was again becoming desperate and nervous and it felt as if she blamed Leonard again.

It had all escalated the day when Leonard dared to write in Jane's work book. And what he had decided to write! He had corrected her... He had to bite his lip later on, thinking about it. It was only natural she had reacted the way she did, Leonard had to admit. She had literally lost control and exploded, showing clearly that the old frustration was back again. That afternoon and evening, Leonard had realized he had to do something – either bring about a change, or pack his things and leave for good. And so, after some thinking, he persuaded Eric he would take care of the task Jane had left him. He had already begun, after all. He focused on this work as he had never before and at the end of the day, he was able to choose just the right parameters and start the computation. In case of any trouble, he decided to stay a while longer, go through the measurements and prepare some data for the next experiment. However, this was more difficult than he had expected and so once again, he got consumed completely by finding a proper solution. Clearly, it must have been a very tedious and tiring job, because next thing he knew he was waking up, startled and confused, unintentionally ripping apart a page of his calculation, staring at an equally surprised Jane.

That night, the dam finally had broken down and Jane had let out in one piece all her worries and frustration. She finally opened herself to him and seemed genuinely relieved after doing so. He was more than happy to accept it and in return, tell her his own story.

That night they had finally been allowed to talk freely, and as they did, Leonard saw that in fact, Jane was the most intriguing person he had ever met.

She was a kind of riddle to him, something unexplainable, a sort of a natural phenomenon. She was talented, intelligent and nearly tireless in pursuing her dream. She might have been tiny, she might have appeared fragile and weak, but in reality, she was far away from that. Of course, she was not exactly an organized person, and she tended to panic unreasonably at times, but this was outweighed by her quick wits and ability to improvise. Sometimes it seemed she was living in her own, small, focused world, but in truth, Jane was always open to the new views and never afraid of a different kind of thinking.

Simply said, Jane just did not fall in any category people might want to put her in at the first sight. In everything she was, in everything she did, she was always unexpectedly different. And it never failed to surprise Leonard. Each day spent with her was unique in its own way. Unrepeatable.

This all had started to fascinate him about her, and it brought about a new, interesting thought. At the time when they first met, Leonard had noticed Jane was a beautiful woman. But back then, she reminded him of a snowflake. Precise, but somewhat inert, distant, unreachable. But the more he got to know her and the more he understood about her, the more her beauty seemed to lay in her personality. It was something coming from the inside that reflected in her thoughtful features. The look in her eyes had often a touch of something unfathomable, as if a part of her consciousness was wandering through her inner world. But then there were moments, especially the happy ones, when her eyes transformed into open windows to her soul, and somehow, Leonard just could not get enough of this.

And as it happened, this realization had hit him with full force the last Friday afternoon when he and Tek were waiting for Jane and Darcy to get ready. Jane had looked so beautiful and so unreachable at the same time that it made him start to panic. He just hadn't known what to do about it. And in the end, of all the options he had chosen the worst – to pretend this disturbance in him did not exist.

This approach proved to be utterly wrong, he had learned later that evening. Not only it hadn't helped extinguish the emotional fire inside him, but it also had added tension between him and Jane and the all the others, too. He had failed in every attempt to look her in the eye, let alone speak to her. He had failed her in this and in many other crucial matters after. But then, being held prisoner at the SHIELD headquarters, he had much time to spend thinking on his failures, as he deserved. But there it seemed to him it was too late for any regret. He was certain he had shocked and disappointed Jane so much that he lost her forever.

However, something else had turned out to be true today. Jane had talked to him, reasoned with him, and calmed down his restless mind. He had thought she would hate him, but instead, she offered him the words of kindness and made Leonard see himself in a better light. And it all simply fascinated him. It was lifting him up; it was warming him, soothing him… It assured him that there was a place for him in her world – a place where none of his personal demons were allowed to enter. And he realized that to be with her again was an indescribable relief, something he had needed all the while; the cure he had been looking for all this time. He realized that if he had ever needed something in his life, it was Jane.

All the more stinging had been the moment later and the pain of the knowledge that even in this case, Leonard was just the second in line. Even if Jane showed him that much affection and care, there was still someone else, someone she was thinking more about, someone she cared more about, someone that would be always ahead of Leonard, someone that would be always the first.

Well, but where was the said man? Where exactly he had been all this time, what actually might have been so important for the fool to be somewhere else than Jane was? How long had it been since they last saw each other? It all seemed kind of absurd to Leonard.

Were Jane and her rumored boyfriend in any contact at all? Of course she might have been trying to hide it, but Leonard somehow never even guessed Jane could be in a relationship. And what kind of relationship it must be then? Perhaps Leonard should just ignore this fact and try to win Jane for himself. Perhaps there was a chance for that?

And perhaps Leonard was still too wounded to admit it. Perhaps he felt too tired and disappointed to give this option a try. And so he thought about someone who surely did not view him as a backup. Someone who he had neglected until this moment. Someone who would truly care about him, and only him.

And with this in mind, he grabbed his cell phone, searched through the list of contacts, and stopped at Darcy Lewis.

* * *

><p>Rolling over to her side, Jane opened her eyes. Yes, she did just that – she hadn't really been sleeping. Things that had happened until now took care about that.<p>

5:47, showed the clock on her smart phone. With a sigh, she cancelled the alarm that was supposed to wake her up at 6:30, and got up from the sofa. She stretched her tense muscles and looked around the common room. It seemed somewhat emptier, much more than ever.

Her next steps brought her to her office and her cabinet. After some rummaging, she managed to find the fresh undergarment (the overall reserve of her clothes having thinned considerably after all the days she had been forced to stay at the facility); then she headed to the showers by the gym. She had to be quick about it all, before anyone could come and see her and greet her and talk to her and ask her… about what, it really did not matter. Just no questions, not now.

Her hair dripping wet, she gathered her things and rushed to the kitchenette. A coffee and something to eat wouldn't be bad as well. Well, just a necessary nourishment to keep her brain working properly. After all, she needed to get on with a document, didn't she? Yes, she managed just the header yesterday. And the title read: Motivation Letter.

But what did it really mean to her? A vengeance of sorts? A rebellion? A reckless action just to show Leonard and Darcy she did not care at all?

Well, in fact, it was nothing else than a wish to escape. And perhaps she should be even thankful to Darcy. Because last night, after the short but very momentous incident, Jane finally realized the truth – all the three years spent here in Puente Antiguo were a waste of time, and now was the very last chance to move on and do something worthy with her life. She was tired of sitting idly and just waiting for someone. She was tired of lying to herself she was actively searching for… for whom exactly? She realized that her behavior and the way she presented her emotions on the outside must have been confusing and just… improper; wrong. And as the consequence, the words had been spoken and could not be called back – and this Jane chose as a breaking point in her life. The time had come for a change, and the quicker it's done, the better.

Somewhat refreshed after having forced down several spoonfuls of yoghurt and a few pieces of stale cookies, she went upstairs, closed the door behind her, swept away the papers from her table and sat a mug of steaming coffee on the vacated spot in their stead. Next to the keyboard she put her cell phone, ready to send Garo a message once he arrives to come to her office. A talk to him was crucial for her decision, but on the other hand, she was determined not to leave her office, unless in a very urgent matter.

It was 8:14 when Eric knocked on her door and not waiting for the invite, he peered inside.

"Hey." He said, his eyes roving confusedly around the room. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home, having some good sleep?"

"Okay, so first, I'm working. This is my office, Eric, and I just work here, right?" Jane answered with a sigh, not looking away from the screen, "And second, I had some sleep in the night, thank you." Of course Jane respected him as her mentor and friend, but at times she couldn't figure out as to what made him ask these banal, pointless questions.

"I'm also glad to see you…" Eric replied and disappeared, not closing the door behind him, of course. Jumping up from her seat, Jane marched to the door and slammed it shut, then returned to her work.

About 10am, she re-read her work one last time, printed the documents and texted Garo to pay her an important visit.

* * *

><p>"So," Garo said at last and cleared his throat, pushing his reading glasses up his nose. He turned the pages over to get to the beginning and then scanned through the document once again, as if checking if what he had just read was true indeed. He raised his eyes then and glanced at Jane from across her desk. "Are you certain, Jane?"<p>

"Absolutely."

"Well," sighing, he put the papers down, eased against the backrest and took off the spectacles. "It is fully understandable that after what happened, you wish to leave."

"Yeah," looking to the side and folding her hands onto the desk before her, Jane breathed out. "In the letter I specify it as the case, but in fact… I just feel like I'm stuck here." She revealed. "This research is not exactly what I always wanted to do. Originally I wished to work on something different, and honestly, the project I'm involved in now seems a bit… I don't know. It's just not… what I used to dream about." not willing to offend, she said carefully. "Please, understand, Garo, I'm simply tired of being here, at the end of the world. You at least have another place to return to, but what do I have? I want something else, I need a change. I have my life and I need to _live it_."

"Hm." Said Garo in response, and moved Jane's motivation letter towards him again. He drummed his fingertips on it. "The young brains." He nodded his head, studying the first page again. "Always so demanding, always so certain that 'something different' equals to 'so much better'."

Jane raised her eyebrows with a silent question.

"Of course I fully agree with you, Jane." he continued then, as if having felt prompted by her facial expression. "Even the first time I'd come here I had to wonder what reason it must have been for such a promising young lady as you to burrow in such a remote place. I'm an old man, at the end of my career, and I can pretty much do as I please with my time. I do not need to broaden my experience as much as you do now… I was in fact feeling very bad for bringing Leonard here. It was very uncertain that we could really do something to help renew the famous research that used to bloom in this place. I tell you, you cannot imagine what relief I felt when Tony Stark expressed his interest in the lad." He admitted in the end.

"Yeah," was all Jane had to say to Garo's last statement. "So, um… what do you think… about… all this?" Raising her eyes to him, she could not hold back any longer and spoke after a silent moment. "Do you think you can help me?"

"Do I?" The old man looked up with a mischievous curiosity in his eyes. "Oh, I think I can, Jane."

"Really?" Jane gasped, her eyes widening. She truly was not expecting a positive answer, let alone so quickly.

"Really." Garo confirmed, tilting his head to the side, his eyes smiling. "Although I'm not sure if it will be a research you used to dream about, I actually have something for you, and this is for certain, it will be a change, the one you long for. You'll need to change some parts of your motivation letter, though – which is written very nicely, I forgot to mention."

"Oh, that's just a detail. Please, tell me more." Jane blurted out eagerly.

"So," Garo continued, after having cleared his throat again. "The thing is, my very good friend has been searching for a research fellow and assistant in one person – you know, someone who would be involved in the research and writing papers, but also take care of the seminars and grade the tests… To my knowledge he still hasn't found a proper person. I've known him for decades, and we truly know each other well, so I'm quite sure that when I make a suggestion, he will certainly listen to me. But prepare yourself for a hard job, Jane. He's very demanding. You know, Harvard." He implied, rolling his eyes meaningfully.

Jane blinked a few times without saying anything. She opened her mouth then, but it took another moment before she spoke. "Harvard?" she repeated.

"Oh yes, what else were you expecting? A proper institution for a scientist of your qualities."

"Are you serious?" Jane still tried to furrow her forehead in careful suspicion, but could not keep a smile from appearing on her lips.

"I'm as serious as I can, dear Jane." He said, smiling, and rose up from his seat. "Now, if you'd excuse me, I believe I have an e-mail to write."

"An e-mail? I mean – are you sure? You will really do this for me?" Jane beamed, still with a touch of doubt, though, and rose up as well.

"Jane! " Garo laughed, "It's the least I can do. Of course I will. And as for you – please, send me those documents so I may go through them in more detail and suggest the proper changes."

"Yes. Yes, right away." Jane nodded, grinning widely.

"I shall send you some links so you can get through what they're working on… Well, the director wanted to speak with me, too," Garo sighed then, checking his watch. "I'll see you in the afternoon, then."

"In the afternoon." Jane confirmed, gathering her documents. "Thank you, Garo." She added as she watched the professor open the door. "I'm in your debt."

"Oh please, Jane!" Waving his hand, he gave her one last, encouraging smile, and left the room.

* * *

><p>Checking her mailbox for some fiftieth time that day, Jane sighed, resting her forehead in her hand. <em>Garo, could you at least answer my messages? <em>She asked silently, wondering whether Garo had even gotten around to editing her motivation letter. Yes, he had sent an e-mail with a few links to further information as he had promised, but now it was a high time he sent some kind of notification that he was finished with the work and that they could resume their talk.

_Or perhaps he's just waiting for me, _Jane thought. _I want something from _him_, after all,_ she had to admit, no matter how much she wished not to leave her office at all.

On the other hand, her inner organs did not share her resolve and had made her walk out of her shell more than once that day, and well, she hadn't run into Darcy or Leonard. He had just seen her once or twice. That was all. She had survived. So why not walk outside once again?

On the contrary, her lucky moments might have been depleted for the rest of the day.

However, no matter what she thought about going outside, staying in her office had slowly but surely started to feel a lot more like running away and hiding behind the walls of some stronghold. She felt like a coward and she hated it.

She drummed her fingertips against the desk. Her stomach made a churning sound. She cleared her throat. And then she got up and walked to the door.

But right there, Jane stopped. She reached out slowly to take the doorknob, hypnotizing the thing in the process, but it felt as if she was going to get burned by it. However, sucking in a deep breath, Jane opened the door eventually. Carefully, she left just a thin crevice of space open at first. Stepping closer, she peered outside.

No one.

_Good. Excellent._ She thought and slipped outside. _No one, no one sees me. _She repeated to herself quietly as she made the first hesitant steps, approaching the next door, which lead to Eric's and Leonard's office. She could hear someone typing quite vehemently, but apart from that there was no other sound, nor a movement. She chose to go on then. Her insides tightened as she passed the open door, as though some predator could be waiting inside, ready to snatch her and bury its claws deep in her skin and flesh at a mere sight of her. However, after a quick glimpse, Jane found there was nothing to fear in truth. Leonard's seat before his computer was empty. He was not even given a chance to lay his eyes on her this time.

Breathing out with relief, Jane went on, at a much faster and somewhat relaxed pace. Bringing one hand up to massage her temples with the thumb and the forefinger, she marched past the stairways and straight to Garo's office. Once there, she took the doorknob, or at least attempted to do just that.

But just before she could get hold of the thing, it simply slipped out of her hand and was pulled away. She froze on her spot.

The door swung open, and the one she wished not to meet just here appeared before her. His look was cast down, but at the hiss of her gasp of surprise he raised his eyes to her. However, Jane looked away. She was mad with herself for reacting in such a submissive way, but still, she could not fight it. It was a kind of spasm that bound her body and tightened every muscle in her. Jane simply just stepped aside to make way and said nothing, did nothing, did not even look, as if she might have been turned into stone after a mere glimpse of his eyes. She could feel his gaze, he skin prickled under it, but all she could do was just to let him go.

And so he did, without a word. The door stayed open for her.

"Jane? Is it you?" She heard a voice say. "Do come in! I think I have good news for you!"

Yes, it was Garo. She had intended to speak with him, yes? _Yes_, she breathed out and entered.

But no matter how she tried to focus on the old man, no matter how amazing and welcome were the words he was telling her, Jane felt as if she stood right beside her person; that she was not really the one receiving the information and leading a dialogue with the professor. Quite the opposite – she stood in the corner of the room and looked around and out of the window and then at the two people talking. And she thought how pitiful was the woman sitting in the chair across the desk from the man. Yes, pitiful and weak. She had just gotten what she wanted, and she could not feel any joy, any kind of satisfaction. It could be a start of something new and exciting, and she just sat there and keep nodding her head and mumbling indifferent answers, instead of rejoicing and eagerly preparing for the next step.

Yes, the news was that Professor Miller, her possible future boss, had replied to Garo's message, and said he was quite interested. Furthermore, he had even heard about Jane himself and was more than intrigued to read her motivation letter and CV and consider her application afterwards. He had promised an answer after the weekend; that meant in a few days.

_I should be excited about that! This is what I want, isn't it? Isn't it?! _Jane yelled internally at herself when she left the office, now fully integrated with her body again. She was so full of these weird, ambivalent emotions that she almost overlooked what was just happening on the stairway on her right, just a few steps down from her. Almost.

Jane stopped and turned to look at them. They were leaving together. Her hand was in his. They walked down the stairs, and when they took the turn, Darcy looked up. Her eyes locked with Jane's for a moment, unmoved. And then they vanished, escaping her sight. They were gone, together. Together.

Breathing out finally, Jane held her forehead. "Okay." She said in a whisper.

"Jane?" Said Eric, peering out of his office. "Everything's fine?"

"Ah, yeah." Jane nodded quickly, the bitterness gathering on her tongue. "Great, actually." She went on. "This… this is one of the best days in my life." She said, and ignoring any further questions, she marched to her office and closed the door behind her.

* * *

><p>She was near. The night air was sparkling with cold and dust, but she was so near he could smell the scent of her skin. And yes, it felt good. In an unexpected, surprising way, but it did feel good all the same.<p>

And why not? The entire evening felt like that. Darcy was always a wonderful, witty and funny companion. She was a reliable friend, one you could contact at any time of the day or night and they would answer you, assure you that everything's all right and make you smile at the same time.

This evening, they had left the work together, not bothering what the others might have thought about them holding hands. They had been assuring each other that what they were doing was not wrong, and it truly felt it wasn't – for the rest of the day and throughout the evening.

Then why was this silent heaviness lingering in the air? What exactly was the problem now? What was wrong? Why was this unwelcome feeling creeping up his spine? He was able to identify it, but denied to name it. Still, it was there. Leonard felt almost paralyzed, but then Darcy reached out and touched his face, and he decided he was tired of thinking and overanalyzing, tired of being bothered, tired of everything. He wanted silence and emptiness. He wanted to flee from any responsibility; he wanted his worries to disappear.

And so, brushing her curly hair from her face, he leaned in and kissed her. Darcy managed to let out a small, quick breath before that.

Her lips were soft and full and overwhelming. He had almost forgotten how it felt… eager and demanding and…

With Elliot, it had worked automatically. Easy. There had been no clumsiness to overcome. It had felt they were made for each other. Until words had been spoken and rage unleashed.

This was pretty much the same, except...

"Okay, uh – " Darcy managed when she broke the kiss, resting her forehead against Leonard's cheekbone. "Let's do us a favor and stop, right?"

"Darcy, I – "

"Please," she sighed, and it sounded almost resigned. "I'm not Jane, right?"

No, she wasn't. Truth.

With a desperate gasp, Leonard looked up to the night sky, letting Darcy rest her head against his chest. Then he closed his eyes. He knew and had known it all the while. It was Jane he wanted in Darcy's place.

He could trick his bodily desires, but his true wishes were different, and those he was not able to lie to. The truth was that Leonard desperately wished Jane could be here with him. Or anywhere else, but just with him. But this was not Jane, it was someone else he had just kissed, and it felt wrong.

"Feelin' guilty?" Darcy murmured into his jacket.

"Sort of." Leonard confirmed after some hesitation. "You?"

Darcy waited a moment until she spoke. "I think I've never felt guiltier. Janie is my friend…" she said quietly. "But what's the matter, huh? You two are not even together yet. She has no proprietary rights to you." She argued then, and squeezed his fingers in her hands. "And this was just one kiss. A quick one. Sure, nearly right under her windows, but…" she looked over her shoulder, glancing at the house behind her. A house where she lived, the house she shared with Jane. "To justify myself I must say I did not enjoy it. Not a bit."

"Not a bit?" Leonard frowned, surprised, the tone of his voice almost hurt.

"Hey, it's not about you." Darcy reassured. "I just wasn't _able_ to enjoy it, if it makes any sense." She replied, lowering her head, and brushed her fingertips against his. "And you?"

Leonard let out a short laugh, hung his head and remained quiet. To gather and interpret his thoughts on this particular matter felt kind of difficult at the moment. "Apart from the guilt, I actually did. How to put it…" he said and bit on his lip. "It's been just surprisingly intense. You know, it's been a while since the last time."

"A while, you say?" She looked up and frowned. "Could you define 'a while'?"

"I believe I told you once. The thing with Elliot." He reminded, sighing. "Come on, you know what's going on."

"Yeah, yeah." Darcy nodded, tapping her forefinger against her lips. She frowned deeper. "But I never thought – I mean, you never told me it was the last time."

"I'm telling you now." Leonard shrugged.

"Okay." Darcy nodded her head a few times, thinking. A soft line appeared between her eyebrows. "But if I remember that story correctly, you did not get her in the end, did you? I mean, you two didn't… get to the point?" she asked and studied him with a cunning smile, eagerly awaiting the answer to her suggestive question.

"Not really." he admitted. "From the way she slammed the door shut, one could have guessed she wasn't exactly in favor of that option. Well, what I'd said to her wasn't exactly nice either."

"Come on, she meant just to use you!" Darcy replied heatedly. "She deserved it!"

"Please, don't judge it. You weren't there."

"Yeah, whatever." She waved her hand impatiently. "But tell me, was there someone _before_ this unfortunate thingy?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, her eyes twinkling.

"Before I answer – where exactly is this conversation leading to?" Leonard asked cautiously.

"No worries, just answer." The tone of her reply wasn't much reassuring, though.

"Mhm," hesitant to continue this, Leonard cleared his throat. "I think there must have been someone, but sadly it belongs to the past I no longer remember."

"Are you kidding me?" She burst out, her eyes widening with disbelief.

"All right, I do _not_ like where this conversation is leading to." He commented dryly.

"Hey, take it easy!" Grinning, she patted him on the chest with the back of her hand. "Being inexperienced isn't a crime."

"I'm _not_ inexperienced." Leonard opposed, almost smiling despite his serious tone. "I just don't have the memories."

"That doesn't sound much as a difference." She argued.

"To me it does." He insisted.

"Come on!" Adjusting his collar as if it could calm him down, Darcy purred merrily. "You see, for example, I find it pretty cute."

"Oh!" Leonard laughed with a touch of bitterness. "That the only person I ever remember sleeping with is Bret? Yeah, and Shiro a few times. What exactly do you find cute about it?"

"Okay, okay." Darcy laughed. "It's also kind of tragic, I give you that – "

Bringing one hand to cover his face, he chuckled as well, this time with a hint of submission and amusement.

"But I call it cute in the first place." Darcy concluded.

"Call it what you like," joining his hands behind his back, Leonard stated in the end. "But don't forget it's my personal, personal stuff." He swayed forward to put emphasis on his words. "What should it matter to anyone else, after all? I believe sex didn't become compulsory."

"Ah, yeah. Could you spare me these arguments?" Rolling her eyes, Darcy sighed. "I have enough of this talk at home." she added then, in a considerably lower voice.

Leonard frowned. "Um… What?"

"From Jane. You know, the tiny, weird creature that I live with." she explained chaotically. "You may calm down actually. She's maybe even a worse recluse than you."

Taking a look at the house before him, Leonard frowned. "Strange," he said then, pursed his lips and looked down, "I thought she had a boyfriend."

"That's what we all thought." Darcy admitted and turned her head to glance at the house, perhaps to look for the lights; to see where Jane might be at the moment. "You see… That's maybe it. She always _thought_ she had a boyfriend. But the truth is more complicated, I'm afraid."

"Could you elaborate that?" Leonard asked quietly.

"In fact, it was just an episode. He stayed here a while, then he just left, promising he would come back for her, bla bla bla…"She waved her hand. "And the result is that three years have passed, we're both stuck here, me and Jane, and I'm sorry but I just fail to see any princes in shining armor coming our way." Gesturing with her hands vividly, Darcy let it all out in one piece. She breathed in again.

"And I'm just tired of persuading her to let it all go and start to live again." She continued. "You know how stubborn she can be. Of course she would never listen to me. But since you arrived, things got different. Yes, she was mad at you at first, but at least she started to be aware of something else than the computers and papers, and… I don't know what exactly the thing between you two is, but please, if you want her – do something. Do something and make her start living. Please."

"If she'll want me." Leonard murmured.

"What? Is that a joke?" Darcy lifted her eyebrows. "Who doesn't want you is an idiot." Her expression was quite serious in the moment she said that, but then she had to smile at the way he lowered his eyes. "Look at you. Even the great Tony Stark seemed to have fallen in love with you."

"Yeah." He sighed in answer, shaking his head minutely. "But what do we do with Pepper?"

Darcy made a horrified face. "Just… don't make me imagine things." She requested. "And as for Jane, leave that to me, no worries. We should have quite a serious talk tonight… For which I need to gather some serious courage, actually." She revealed, peering worriedly over her shoulder.

"Come on. You're Darcy Lewis, you'll handle it." he encouraged.

"It's easy to say for you – you're not the one who pissed Dr. Foster off." Darcy muttered, turning back to him.

"Are you sure?" He voiced a doubt. "I thought her eyes would set me on fire when we were leaving."

"But unlike me, you didn't steal… yourself away from her." Darcy explained quietly but firmly. "Anyway," she sighed deeply, "I think I should go while my determination still lives."

"Perhaps you should." He said in reply. "And about this all… I'm sorry, Darcy. I didn't mean to hurt you like this. You don't deserve it."

Now it was time for her to clear her throat. "That's okay. No, really. I won't cry, no worries. As you said, I'll handle it somehow, right?" she claimed, but her trembling voice did not support her statement.

"Will you?" He asked, stepping closer.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Eventually." She said, averted her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll just spend a couple weeks dreaming of…" she shrugged instead of finishing the sentence. "Whatever." She said then and sighed.

"I'm sorry." He whispered once again and brought his hand up to touch her face, but she pulled away.

"Good night, Leonard." She breathed and turned around, not looking back, and paced towards her home.

"Good night." He answered softly, much quieter than he would have liked.

Ha stayed and watched her reach the house, climb the three stairs to the entrance, pull out the keys from her bag and unlock the door. She gave him a quick glance before she entered. And it did seem to him there was a smile, too. It was sad and bittersweet, but also a reassuring, friendly one. And that exactly made him feel horrible. She was the last person to deserve to be lonely and sad. He hated himself for having made decisions that led to this. He felt like running to her and try to set everything aright, but the next instant he knew it would be inappropriate and foolish. Both Jane and Darcy had now an opportunity to clear a lot of matters between them and to decide what they truly wanted. All he could do meanwhile was to wish they would reach some understanding in that.

And so, putting his hands into his pockets, he turned and walked away.

* * *

><p>Breathing out slowly and heavily, Jane finally decided to straighten her back and raise her head. A few last water drops fell from her wet face to the white surface of the basin.<p>

But no, she still wasn't prepared to take a look at her face right now. Please, just not now. Just a little while longer without the need to face this image. A perfect image of a useless looser.

But eventually, regardless her wish, Jane would have to face her reflection in the mirror - if she was unable to face even herself, how could she ever face Darcy? The roommates could not just keep avoiding each other forever.

Leaning over the rim of the basin, Jane sighed again. _No, I don't want to look_, she thought. And then, a noise came from behind. The lock clicked, and the front door opened.

_It's her. She's coming home._

After what she had witnessed in the afternoon, Jane was sure Darcy wouldn't be coming home at all tonight, that she was surely going to stay with Leonard, at the dorm.

Jane swallowed, grabbed the towel and dried her face, pretending she ignored the noises coming from the hall.

"Jane?" Darcy called, and paused. Quick footsteps followed.

_She's checking upstairs_, Jane observed, looking up and listening carefully to Darcy's footfalls above her.

"Janie, come on, I know you're here!" Darcy called again and another rushed string of noises revealed she ran back down. "Jane, I need to talk to you!" she shouted then.

At that, Jane swung the door of the bathroom open. "Good, I need to talk to you as well."

"Jane – "

"Let me speak." Jane cut in, stepping out into the light of the hall. Suddenly, she felt a rush of energy, a kind of intense, inner heat. And she meant to use it before it vanished again. "Yesterday, you made a good point, Darcy." She began. "You said 'long, pointless years'. And you know what? I thank you for that. Because it finally made me see. You were right. And when you left the work, I stayed through the night, and had some time to think it over. And I made a decision."

"Jane, listen – "

"I. Made. A decision!" Walking slowly closer, Jane continued, not minding Darcy's attempts to say something, too. "I'm leaving." She revealed.

"What?" Darcy gasped, shocked. "Now? Are you insane? But what about the new project and stuff? What about Garo and… You have things to finish!"

"Yes? But what exactly have I ever _achieved_ here?!" Jane exclaimed, scowling. "What is it, Dee? Can you name something? Anything that's worth mentioning?" she shouted angrily, clutching at the edges of the sleeves of her pajama shirt. "Go on, name something." She prompted, raising her eyebrows with a faked curiosity.

"Well, nothing?" Jane asked after an awkward, silent moment.

"There's the paper and the new results…" Darcy tried insecurely.

"Screw the stupid paper!" Jane screamed. "I've done nothing, Darcy! That's the point. I was just sitting and waiting where Thor left me, all those years, like an idiot!" Pointing at herself, Jane bent forward so as to let all the rage flow. "But it's over! Do you hear me? Over! I'm done with this place. I'm leaving, and I'm selling this house."

"What?!" Now it was time for Darcy to express her protest. "Are you listening to yourself now?" Raising her voice considerably, she stepped down the last stair and stood face to face with her raging friend. "And what about me? What should I feel like? What was I promised at the beginning? Listen up, Janie, you had your splendid blond alien hero to come back for you, but what did I have? Huh? I stayed because of you! I also wasted three years of my life here. And what do you care? Where should I go now?"

"Where you should go?" Jane repeated and snorted mockingly. "I don't know. Wherever you want to. I won't clutch your leg to make you stop! And anyway, I believe you have a boyfriend now. Isn't he more qualified to discuss these matters with?"

"Yeah…" shaking her head, Darcy let out a bitter laugh.

"Yeah." Jane repeated in the same tone. "Look, I'm not in the mood for this. Good night!" She said and walked past her roommate to get upstairs. And she only managed three stairs before she felt a squeeze as she had been grabbed by the forearm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Darcy demanded as she yanked Jane back to her. "We're not quite finished here."

"I am."

"You're not."

"Let go."

"Jane – "

"Let me go!"

"Listen to me!"

"Let _go_!" Jane screamed frantically, wrenched her arm free and slapped Darcy in the face.

The dark hair tresses moved, curl after curl like a feather fan, and finally brushed over the opposite shoulder. Jane viewed it breathless and wide-eyed. And before she could as much as remember to breathe, Darcy returned the slap. But this time, the hit was so forceful and unexpected Jane lost her balance and fell, throwing her hands up to get hold of the banister. Startled, she cried out, and ended up with her arms wrapped around the newel post. She hung there for a moment longer, just breathing, and then let go slowly, and sank to her knees on the floor beneath the stairs.

After that, deep silence settled around and lasted.

But eventually, a voice slashed through the thickness of it.

"Jane Foster?" Darcy whispered. "You ok?"

"Yeah." The one addressed breathed, staring into nowhere. "You?"

"My cheek burns like hell."

"Mine too." Jane uttered absently.

Another long moment of silence followed, until Darcy stepped down the remaining steps and knelt beside her friend. "Oh," she commented as she removed the hair tresses from Jane's cheek.

"What is it?" Jane asked, turning her head to look at the other woman.

"I even managed to scratch you… not much, but… wait here, I'll get something to clean it." Darcy promised and tried to get up, but Jane grabbed her by the hand. "I'm sorry, Dee." She murmured.

"Jane…"

"For everything. For what I just said and," Jane took a deep breath, "for all the time I stole from you –"

"Jane!"

"Just let me speak!" Jane shouted once more. "I wanted to say I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have stayed here and shouldn't have persuaded you to stay with me. And now I'm… just sorry, I'm so sorry." Breathing heavily now, Jane looked into Darcy's eyes and shivered. She literally felt as if her body was about to burst open. Helpless, she parted her lips, and focused on her breathing, the one thing left that kept her from starting to sob.

"Hey!" Darcy gasped and brought her hands to Jane's face. "Janie, come on!" she said softly and then snorted a bitter laugh. "And don't you think I should have figured it out myself? If I wanted to go away that much, I could have moved my ass long ago. I'm the one responsible for my life. You're my friend, not my mother. No, Janie, it's my own fault. It's just so much like me, right. The reckless, weird Darcy, who tries to look cool but cannot make a single decision in her life." She said and shrugged, her eyes watering.

Pricking Darcy with her eyes, Jane swallowed. "Don't even try to cry, Dee. I warn you."

"No," the other woman replied stubbornly, tilting her head back. "I promised I won't. And I won't. If Darcy Lewis was ever good at anything, it was holding back the tears." She informed the ceiling.

"You promised? Whom?" Jane asked, and after a nervous moment grabbed her companion's head to make her look down and answer.

Darcy submitted to the silent command, but said nothing. Then she grinned, threw her arms around Jane's neck and just held her tightly. And well, Jane did just the same. How could she not? It was a kind of reflex. A necessity.

How long they stayed like this, Jane could not tell. The only thing she was able to notice was that her mind that had been in constant, raging action, gears shifting all the time, finally reached a completely peaceful state. There were no thoughts. Just a strange, comfortable kind of weariness.

"Janie?" Darcy spoke at last, and loosened her grip a bit.

"Yeah?"

"We're not together."

At first, Jane just opened her eyes and stared at the opposite wall. Then she frowned. "Who?"

"Me and Lenny."

"Leonard." Jane corrected automatically, not really getting the notion.

"Yeah, this one." Darcy confirmed, sighing into Jane's shoulder. "You said we were together. But that's not true."

"But it looked like that when you were leaving work today." Burying her chin into Darcy's crook of the neck, Jane reminded. Her voice still sounded detached, but something had already stirred inside her heart.

"Well, that's what I wanted to believe." Darcy said with a touch of regret. "We went downtown to have a drink and some fun… It was great. He walked me home…" she paused here for a moment, "and then we broke up."

Silence.

"Or better, we decided not to start." Darcy explained.

Jane blinked a few times, then rested the side of her face on her friend's shoulder. "Why?" she asked eventually.

"Come on, Janie." Darcy laughed. "He wants _you_."

Wrinkling her forehead, Jane opened her mouth, but was hesitant to speak. "How do you know?" She said in the end.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "I looked into my pocket-crystal ball." She sighed and withdrew to look Jane in the eye. "He told me!" she stated, holding Jane by the shoulders.

"Did he?" Jane peeped, her eyebrows climbing up carefully.

"Yes, he did!" Darcy confirmed, rising her voice as to repel any doubt.

"Oh." Jane replied.

"What?" Darcy frowned after a while. "Is that all you're going to say?"

"No."

"So..?"

"Well… I don't know. What I'm supposed to say?" Jane asked, feeling the unstoppable silly smile take over her lips.

Darcy sighed. "That it's just amazing and that you and Lenny need to talk about it... How does that sound?"

Dropping her look, Jane let out a breath she had been holding. "And what exactly we should talk about? 'Hey, I'm glad that you like me, but sorry, I'm leaving.'?"

"No! Are you nuts?" Darcy scowled again, as if talking to a child. "And speaking of leaving – you still haven't told me where."

"It's still uncertain." The shorter of the two gave an evasive answer. "A mere idea, really."

"Just tell me." Darcy insisted. "Besides, you seemed quite certain about it a while ago."

"If everything works," Jane said and cleared her throat, "then I'll… I may be moving to Boston. Maybe."

"Any specific place in there?" Darcy asked and tilted her head in an attempt to restore the eye contact.

"Yeah."

"Hm?"

Jane hesitated again, but then smiled. "Harvard." She revealed, raising her eyes.

"Jane!" Darcy exclaimed, squeezing her friend's shoulders.

"Darcy!" The tiny scientist laughed. "I'm telling you it's not certain!"

"Come on, girl!" Not willing to listen to any further explanations, Darcy rejoiced. "You deserve it! And you'll get that, no discussion about it!"

"Well, the decision isn't really mine." Jane reminded. "I'll have to wait what Prof. Miller thinks about my letter and CV."

"Then I advise him to like it." Darcy narrowed her eyes. "Otherwise I kick him in the balls."

"Dee!" Jane burst into laughter again.

"What?!"

"Well…" Still giggling, Jane gave a shrug. "No doubt this prospect would inspire a lot of respect."

"You bet." Darcy agreed.

"Then I should have told Garo to mention your threat in his e-mail." Jane sighed.

"Yeah, you should have." The taller woman concurred, and then pricked Jane's shoulder with a forefinger. "And anyway, if my memory is still worth something, isn't by chance Boston the place where Lenny comes from?"

"Hm." Jane muttered, unable to stop thinking that it actually wasn't his true hometown. It was some other, unknown place.

"Then where's the problem?" Darcy waved her arms. "Ok, so let's presume you get the job. You move there next month? Next week? So what? When he's done here he'll come to you. In a few months."

"But if we… start something now, how am I supposed to live without him when I'm gone?" fighting the smile again, Jane objected.

"Goodness," Darcy turned her sight to the ceiling for a moment. "I knew there was something going on, but had no idea you had such a crush on him." She commented dryly.

Turning her look down, Jane only smiled in reply.

"Oh no. You're not even denying it!"

"No." Jane admitted quietly.

"But anyway, do I have to remind you the three years issue again?" Darcy said and held Jane's tiny hand in hers. "What are a few months to you?"

"Everything!" Jane burst out. "I'm tired of waiting, Dee. And honestly, after those three years, I feel like I've been waiting all my life. I'm just tired and sick of it. I want to live. I…" unable to express all her thoughts and emotions at once, Jane just shook her head, helpless.

"Want Lenny in your bed?" Darcy finished for her, and smiled roguishly.

"No!" Jane's eyes widened, but then a smile played on her lips. "I mean… That wasn't what I wanted to say."

"But you do?" Her friend kept inquiring.

"And don't you think it's _my_ business?" The scientist argued.

"Come on!" Darcy insisted, shifting a bit closer again. "Could you at least tell me when has Lenny replaced the Prince Charming in your fantasies?"

Jane pursed her lips. "Darcy Lewis, do you remember our numerous discussions about not asking certain questions?"

"I remember and I don't care." Darcy replied, annoyed. "Besides, who else would you like to discuss this stuff with?"

"And what if I say 'no one'?" Jane objected. "Look, I understand you're quite open about these things, but I'm not, okay?"

"But that's a pity. It's a good thing to share this. You wouldn't feel that much tense, you know."

"I'm not tense!" Jane raised her voice.

"Of course you're not, sweetie." Darcy shook her head, letting her sarcastic smile meet Jane's accusing stare. "But, if you don't want to discuss your own frustration, why not someone else's?" She added in a quieter, conspiratorial tone.

Overlooking the mention of frustration, Jane frowned. "And who should that be?" she asked with suspicion.

"Who do you think?" Darcy smiled widely.

"Oh." Jane said and lowered her eyes. "Was he sad that he wouldn't get lucky tonight?"

"Maybe." Darcy inclined her head. "But such regret certainly wouldn't include me." She said, watching Jane meaningfully. "Actually, the thing that transpired was far more interesting." She announced in an excited half-whisper, leaning closer, as if someone third might have been listening. "He hasn't been with a woman yet." She whispered, holding back the giggles with an obvious difficulty. "He says he did for sure, but this is great – he doesn't remember."

"What?" Jane lifted her eyebrows in confusion and doubt, but watching Darcy's grin made her smile nonetheless.

"You heard me." Eager like a little child spreading secrets, Darcy confirmed.

"Um…" Jane cleared her throat, not knowing what to do with this information. "Okay, so… Maybe I really shouldn't ask, but why exactly are you telling me this?"

"I don't know. I just found it kind of cute." The black-haired woman shrugged. "But one thing is for sure – if you two mean to be together, perhaps you should check certain chapters in the biology textbooks first." She suggested, feigning quite skillfully a concerned look.

"Hey!" Jane protested, unable to hold back a smile. "What's your point, Darcy Lewis? Yes, it's been a while, I know. But I still remember what's going on, thank you very much." She said, grinning widely now.

"Let's hope he knows that, too." Darcy added.

Jane laughed in reply, shaking her head. "You make it sound like it was all a relationship should be about." She said.

"Well, and isn't?"

"Of course not!" Jane objected. "What about a real, mutual friendship, understanding, trust, respect and empathy?" She went on and she meant it. Perhaps these ideals were naïve and too demanding for this world, but they were the right ones. Jane had been raised on them and simply refused to give them up. "These are lifelong qualities." She said. "And that's what I want."

"Yeah," Darcy admitted after a hesitant moment. "It's true. But remember that many people would call you a dreamer."

"I don't care about what other people think." Jane had an answer ready.

"Well, that's certainly useful." Darcy said and remained quiet. Then she furrowed her brow. "But tell me, how exactly do you plan to make babies?"

Jane brought a hand to her face and sighed deeply, still smiling, though. "Can I please withdraw from this conversation?"

"Now? No way!" Darcy protested playfully. "It has just started to be interesting!"

"But I'll do it anyway. So," Jane cut this off unmercifully, raising her voice to introduce a new topic, "this all means I'll be his first girlfriend after all this time?"

"Oh no, dear." Darcy disagreed. "Because for an afternoon and evening, it was me."

"But you said you decided not even to start!" Jane reminded.

"Yeah, okay. Still, there was someone even before me, I'm afraid." Darcy recalled. "But it didn't work. Apparently Lenny really meant it, but the bitch just wanted the benefits. For the real thing she meant to keep her other guy, who was in Europe at the time."

"Bitch, indeed." Jane agreed. "But I ought to be thankful, I guess." She grinned. "Still, I can't understand it. Leonard's an amazing person. Is everyone in Boston blind or deaf or what?"

"I guess they're just weird. You know, all those colleges… The city must be full of socially clumsy nerds like you."

"Socially clumsy? Me?" Jane asked and put one hand to her chest, feigning surprise. "Impossible." She said, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"Yeah. And living in their small, focused worlds." Her friend went on.

"Not a chance!" Jane denied vehemently. "You should know I live for the present moment only." She claimed, and those who did not know her would have surely believed her words were true.

"Yeah, and now the other fairytale." Darcy grinned, obviously immune to Jane's acting skills. "Honestly, Jane, where would you be without me?"

"Most certainly dead, covered with the desert dirt…" Jane said, but then brought a forefinger to her lips and wondered. "Or polishing a Nobel Prize." She added.

"Um," Darcy made a face, "do you realize these two options are quite contradictory?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Darcy brought up her hands in submission. "I guess I don't want to know more." She sighed, helpless. "Anyway, if I may come back to Lenny – if we take his life into account – he woke up one day in the middle of some wasteland with no memories, right? He was confused, then even more confused, and then he had a new family and enrolled at MIT and studied and studied and spent most of his free time with his roomies or playing poker or…" she paused there to take a breath, "…whatever. Who knows, maybe he just never had time for a relationship. And maybe," she smiled toothily, "the universe just wants you two to be together."

"Nah!" rolling her eyes, Jane growled disapprovingly.

"Just consider it!" Darcy exclaimed. "Why not? He just literally popped out of nowhere in the middle of Texas, with no idea of how he got there; then went all the way to Boston and then bam! He ended up here, falling in love with you. I'm sorry but this is quite clear. Seems like the universe is sending you hot guys one after another. Which is quite unfair, actually." She complained.

"And not only it is unfair," Jane continued, crossing her arms before her, "it doesn't even make any sense. With Thor it was an accident, and Leonard had an accident, too. That's all. An accident."

"But what if Lenny fell from the sky, like Thor?" Darcy tried.

"Then what? He might have." Jane explained and gave an indifferent shrug, as if she did not really care. Well, of course she did, but refused to believe her next love interest came from the same place Thor did. "There are lots of explanations for that, both rational and crazy." She continued. "And why falling from the sky? Let's not forget the space-time is not a rigid thing. It is flexible and fluid. He might have been sucked into a space-time or even inter-dimensional portal or whatever… things we once studied, you remember?"

"See? Got you!" Darcy jabbed a forefinger into Jane's chest.

"But these are just wild, crazy speculations." Jane sighed and rubbed her eye with her knuckles, the tiredness taking over her entire being. Right now she was in the mood for anything but searching for the truth behind Leonard's past. All that mattered to her now was Leonard's future, for it very well might become hers, too.

"In other words," Jane resumed, "the Occam's razor tells us to pick the scenario where Leonard was like… I don't know… pushed from a helicopter or something, and he simply injured himself hitting the ground. The height was just enough to cause some brain damage but not enough to kill him."

"In other words, Occam's razor is boring as usual." Darcy waved her hand, resigned, and perhaps a little tired herself. "And you know what? We need to get up." She decided, changing the topic. "My ass is cool, that's an undeniable fact, but if it gets any cooler, my bladder will burst in flames tonight." She concluded and got up. "My knees!" She whined, straightening with an obvious difficulty. "Come on, I think I need a shot." She prompted and held out a hand for Jane.

"Who wouldn't after all this." Jane agreed, took the offered hand, and as she stood up, she grimaced at the pain in her own joints. "But do we even have something to pour two shots from?"

"Of course we have." Darcy informed her with a mischievous smile. "And it'll be more than just two. Because I think," her eyes twinkled here, "it's the right time to look into that bottle I won at the chili festival. You remember how bravely I fought for it?"

"The bourbon?" Jane remembered, her eyebrows climbing up. "No! We should spare it."

"Spare it for what?" Darcy cut in. "Can you imagine a better occasion? So much heartache and bad blood… and see? All it took were just two epic slaps and a proper talk, and the universe set it all aright."

"Darcy! Could you please stop the universe talk?" Jane rolled her eyes in protest.

"And now I'm sensing," simply ignoring Jane's protests, Darcy continued, raising her hand and eyes to the ceiling theatrically, "that the universe wants us to celebrate and drown in the first class booze."

Jane couldn't help but snort out a laugh.

"Hey, this is no fun, soldier!" Darcy objected with a playful look in her eyes. "And thus I ask you, Jane F., are you going to face this task with me?"

"Aye, my friend." Jane managed as solemnly as she could through her joyful, reconciled smile.

* * *

><p>Rolling over to her side, Jane wished she could stop her head from spinning. She looked at the window, and thought that opening it was a great idea. But getting up, going over there and doing it – that seemed close to impossible right now. She turned and lay on her back again. Darcy, who lay beside her, was already fast asleep, but that did not stop her from murmuring quietly and taking Jane's hand in hers. Jane smiled.<p>

After all the drinking, music, playing video games, and then more drinking she and Darcy had decided to bring the pillows and blankets from upstairs to the living room, and sleep together on the studio couch.

Darcy had fallen asleep the moment she covered herself, but Jane's mind was too full of thoughts for that. Most importantly, she couldn't stop thinking about Leonard – and especially about what Darcy had implied about his origin.

What if he truly had fallen from the sky?

Jane had been thinking about it several times already. And each of those times, Jane had had to reject the idea in the end. Because if she hadn't, everything would have simply clicked into place, but in a very wrong way.

His behavior, his voice, his intelligence, his ability to adapt, his black hair, his almost unnaturally green eyes… the rage that was hiding inside of him, the unusual physical strength – this all taken together and added to the idea that he might have come from Asgard… It could even make sense. Thor had been sent here as a human, to taste the life of a peasant, of a mortal, to learn a lesson and to be punished for his crimes. He had left then, because of his raging brother. He'd promised to return for her, but that never happened. But why? He was alive for sure. All those rains accompanied by the sound of thunder humming in the distance that had come after his depart… they were too often to be considered natural. It was Thor, Jane knew that. And even if they became less frequent, and now she almost could not remember when had been the last time, Jane was still certain it was Thor who had been sending them. It was his only means of talking to her. And thanks to that, she was never willing to give up. Until now.

But if Thor lived, he must have won over his younger brother. He must have stopped Loki. And from everything that had happened and had been told, Jane learned that Loki had turned a traitor. And thus, when he was defeated, he was surely also punished. Could it be Odin chose the same punishment for his younger son as he had chosen before for Thor?

The part of such punishment was the loss of immortality and power. Thor could not wield Mjollnir until his punishment was completed. So the question was - what would Odin take from Loki? His magic, that was for sure. It did not matter now if Jane considered it a real thing or not. But whatever it might be, she was aware that one had to learn and study hard to learn magic. One had to memorize. One had to learn by heart a lot.

Then what would be the thing to do to erase that knowledge?

Yes, yes of course.

An amnesia. A complete and irreversible loss of memory.

Which was exactly what had happened to Leonard three years ago.

It was everything so clear it made Jane shiver. And why she never thought about this option in such depth? Was she always aware of this truth, but just too scared to think it over to the end?

Perhaps the recent events had spurred her imagination again. And perhaps it was the amount of alcohol now.

But on the other hand, what if Leonard truly was Loki? What would it tell about the disobedient, supposedly treacherous being? That he was a pleasant, witty companion? That he had a silky voice and wonderful eyes; that he was interested in science and the universe and in how nature worked? That he loved his new family? That he struggled to thank them for what they had done for him; that he wished to please them with his success in school and work? That he was good at poker, that he loved music, that he refused to get rid of his worn-out Megadeth t-shirt? That his beloved novel was The Little Prince and that he identified himself with the main character? That he'd left a drawing of the Little Prince in her book? The he loved chocolate ice-cream and was ticklish? That he was the most amazing person Jane had ever met, and that she had fallen in love with him? That… That his best friend looked almost exactly like Thor?

Jane let out a gasp at this thought. Yes, she had seen Bret only in a photograph that hung high on the wall in Leonard's room, and once she glimpsed him in the wallpaper image of Leonard's laptop, but still…

She started to tremble. Her eyes went wide open. What other proof was needed here? What other proof than that?

Tears started to leave the corners of her eyes.

What must have happened then? What had caused this person to be willing to kill Thor? What had driven him so mad?

But whatever it could have been, it belonged to the past. If Leonard truly was Loki, he was being punished right now, and he had been all those years. All this time, he had felt alone and a stranger, that he did not belong. He was afraid of his past, as he alone had confirmed. And he wished never to find out who he used to be. He'd lost interest in that. He'd found a new life, and what happened before belonged to someone else, someone he no longer identified himself with. He only wished to be Leonard. And he wanted to be with her.

And Jane decided that it was all that mattered.

"Whoever you used to be." She mouthed then and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. She sat up then, still holding Darcy's hand, and leaned over the edge of the couch to get the bottle of bourbon. However, she reconsidered her action promptly after her stomach rolled over in disagreement. And so Jane waited a moment to make sure everything stayed where it should, and then lay back down.

As she did, she felt Darcy move closer and snuggle against her shoulder. Jane breathed out slowly_. If only you knew what I was thinking about_, she thought.

Feeling sort of helpless and lost, Jane turned to face her friend, then reached out and removed a long, curly hair tress from Darcy's face. "You've been my best friend all these years," Jane whispered. "You were always there for me, cheering me up, supporting me, encouraging me, keeping me sane… And I have never even thanked you." She admitted, and then felt her heart beat faster as she got an answer.

"I wasn't doing that to hear you thank me." Darcy said slowly, then sucked in some saliva that had just escaped her mouth.

Jane giggled. "Then why did you do that?"

"Because you're my friend, Janie. You're such a tiny little creature, you know. I was just making sure no one hurt you, not even you alone."

"Well, then I think it worked." Jane replied.

"Actually, no. Some idiots kidnapped you and then I hurt you myself." Darcy pointed out sleepily.

"Yeah. But I just decided it doesn't count." Jane stated, quietly but firmly, and kissed her friend's forehead.

"Okay." Darcy yawned and smiled, squeezing Jane's hand tightly. "But I'm afraid there's one more thing I have to tell you, Janie. Sorry, but I have to."

"Sounds serious. What is it?" Jane asked, propping herself on her elbow.

"We kissed. Lenny and I." Darcy informed, her voice getting hoarse.

"Hm," was Jane's first reaction. Well, she had expected something like that, hadn't she? "What was it like?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Generally, wonderful." Darcy replied. "But the thing was I couldn't enjoy it. I felt guilt-ridden."

"Yeah, you're right. I think I'll stab you for what you did." Jane said.

Silence followed. "Shut up." Darcy growled then, which made her friend giggle.

Jane sighed deeply then, and lay back down. "Darcy?" She asked after a moment.

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about what you said. About Leonard falling from the sky like Thor did."

"And?"

"Well, if he's from Asgard, too… Wouldn't he be Loki?" Jane suggested, gazing into the dark ceiling.

"Loki, you say?" Darcy rolled the name over her tongue. "Yeah, I think you're right. Lenny does seem a lot like a raging psycho killer."

"But what do we actually know about Loki?" Jane pointed out.

"That he intended to erase this place from the planet Earth's surface." Darcy muttered angrily. "He hurt Eric, and killed Thor. Is that enough?"

"But what was driving him?" Jane asked, wondering. "You know, from what Thor told me, it seemed to me he admired his younger brother. He truly loved him, and was sure Loki loved him back. So… I don't know. Could Loki have feigned it all his life? They grew up together, after all."

"So..?"

"So I think Loki must have been a good person." Jane concluded. "But then something happened that made him see things from a wrong point of view."

"Janie, he was just envious." Darcy explained in an annoyed tone, as if everything was simple and clear. "He wanted the kingdom for himself, and he did just what was needed to achieve that. He could be an exact opposite of Lenny, in fact." She paused here to think it over. "No, Janie, Leonard isn't Loki. That's for sure. Plus, Thor would never allow him to come here. He just wouldn't let that happen."

"But there are so many things that speak for it." Jane tried.

"Like what?" Darcy sighed, growing truly irritated.

"Everything. The way he speaks and behaves, his hair and skin and eyes…" Jane listed, gesturing with her hand to help her thoughts turn into statements. "And SHIELD seems to be watching over him constantly. It looks like they know something about him, but don't want to tell us."

"Okay, so now every guy with black hair and green eyes is a possible Loki?" Darcy asked, and Jane could feel her friend's stare of disbelief on her skin.

"And SHIELD?" Darcy continued, calming down a bit. "Come on, you know them. They constantly put their curious noses in everyone's life. Sometimes I think they know stuff about me that would surprise even me. They are one of the Big Brothers of our world, Janie. And I can vividly imagine Coulson saying that it's just their job. So yeah, it wouldn't really surprise me if they knew who Lenny was. And who says SHIELD is not behind his amnesia? He might very well be a part of their weird secret projects – and that's what I'd be worried about, if I were you. For me the option that he fell from the sky is the better one in this case. But don't you think that if they knew he was Loki they would not have let him come here and work with us?"

"Well…" Jane murmured insecurely.

"Occam's Razor, Janie, Occam's Razor. It's boring, but sometimes it helps. Think about it." Darcy suggested and yawned again.

"So, the Loki possibility doesn't bother you? Not even a bit?" Jane couldn't help but ask once more.

"Nope," was all Darcy had to say to that.

"Not even the tiniest bit?" Jane faced her companion, her eyebrows climbing up.

"Nope!" Darcy confirmed loudly.

"Okay." Jane frowned. "I heard you the first time."

"Then stop asking."

Jane sighed loudly in reply. "I'll open the window." She announced then.

"Huh."

"Good night, Dee."

"Good night, Janie." Darcy replied, and drew the blanket over her shoulder and up to her chin.

Jane let go of her friend's hand then, turned carefully away and got up. Reaching out to lay her hand on the table, she steadied herself, and then walked to the window. She opened it as quietly as she could at these conditions, breathed the air for a moment and then turned around and walked back.

Before she lay back down, she noticed her mobile phone on the table desk. She took it and sat down on the couch. She double-checked the alarm and intended to put the phone back, but an idea crossed her mind.

_No_, she thought right away. But then she simply opened a new message, disregarding her inner voice, and typed _"Did you fall from the sky?"_

And before the tiny voice of her better judgment could protest, she sent the text to Leonard.

Jane viewed the small device in her hand then, frowning. And suddenly, she tossed it on the blanket beside her, as if it could bite her. _I must be insane_, she thought. Sighing and resting her forehead against the inner sides of her wrists, she propped her elbows on her knees and bit her lip, whining quietly as to not wake Darcy.

And in the middle of her lamentation over her previous action, an incoming message made her phone shine and beep.

Darcy muttered in disagreement, but Jane's hand snatched the thing eagerly.

"_I might have. Did you?"_ He said.

Jane laughed quietly, bowing her head. _"No one has informed me as yet."_ she replied, surprised at her ability to write correctly after that much bourbon, and switched off the sound on the device.

"_Then we're in the same situation."_ His next message started with. _"So, are we talking to each other again?"_ it went on.

"_We always have. I was just avoiding you."_ She texted back, unsure if this was the proper thing to say. His reply took a little longer this time.

"_I'm sorry Jane. I shouldn't have behaved like I did."_ he said.

"_I think I can say the same."_ Jane answered.

"_Now one important question – is your roommate still alive?"_ he asked in his next message.

Jane looked over her shoulder, checking on her sleeping friend. _"It doesn't look like that, but I assure you she is."_

"_Did you talk?"_

Jane smiled._ "A lot. And we drank a lot, too."_

"_That's a good sign, I guess. How do you feel? And can we talk, too? In the morning?"_

"_Strange. And of course we can. We have to."_

"_In the morning then. Should I wait for you or go with Garo?"_

"_I'd choose Garo if I were you. I need some really good sleep."_ Jane answered, buying some more time to prepare for the said talk.

"_Ok. Then I wish you good night, Lady Jane. Have calm, sweet dreams."_

"_You too, Leonard. Good night."_ Jane replied and put the phone back on the table.

This night, she fell asleep with a smile.

* * *

><p>The closer she got, the faster was her heartbeat, however, unlike the last time Jane had walked down this corridor and past this door, the cause was not her defiance and frustration. It was excitement now; the positive kind. She held her breath before the incriminated office came into her view. And she saw <em>him<em>, too. He stood by his table, sorting the papers.

"Morning." She peeped, waving her hand insecurely. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and then he was out of sight. She just went on to her own work space. Darcy said 'hi' to both Leonard and Eric shortly after and then hurried to Jane.

"Don't forget. You need to talk." The taller woman reminded quietly through gritted teeth. It did not really sound like a reminder to Jane. More like a threat, maybe.

"I know!" Jane mouthed, frowning. Who should know better than her? "Go to work." She said, gesturing with her chin towards the end of the hall, where Tek and the director had their offices and where Darcy belonged.

"Okay, big boss. Just remember that I want to be informed. Promptly and in detail." Darcy replied and marched away.

Sighing, Jane entered her office then and took off her jacket. She hung it on the peg on the wall, and walked to her desk. She searched inside her bag for a moment, then found her cell phone, pulled it out and tossed it onto the table. Breathing out, she fell into her armchair, sat the bag under the table, kicked off her boots, nestled in the seat and drew her knees up under her chin.

After a moment of staring into nowhere, Jane let down one leg and using her toe, she fumbled at the switch of her computer. In the end, she managed to turn the device on.

"Morning, sweetie." She murmured as the thing started to hum. And before her computer could become fully alive, Jane decided to push herself from the table desk and wheel around in her chair. And only after the second turn, she found Leonard standing in her doorway, leaning against the doorframe as was his custom.

"Ah." She managed and held onto the edge of the desk to make to chair stop moving.

He smiled. "If you're busy I can come to talk later."

"Ehm," studying the surface of her desk intensely, Jane smiled back. "If it's you, I think I can skip this… morning exercise. But only this once."

"I understand."

"Great. Please, come in. And close the door."

He did as he was bid and then approached her in slow, measured steps; his hands joined behind his back, his eyes lowered to the floor. He stopped right before her desk, and placed his fingertips on the edge of it.

Jane got up from her seat, intending to stand face to face with him, but then stopped halfway around the desk. Her previous thoughts on his possible origin reached her mind, seized it and refused to let go.

She viewed him. His jet-black hair, his pale complexion, the long, dark lashes that were hiding the almost unnaturally green irises, the noble, high cheekbones, the long neck and broad shoulders… His personality, his entire being was something so unexplainable, and yet so real. And like to all things undiscovered and unknown, she was being constantly drawn to him – she had been all this time, and fighting it was simply futile. And like in the case of all things yet undiscovered and unknown, she partly feared what she might truly find.

His lips moved. "I do not bite." He said.

"I know." Jane answered and closed the remaining distance between them, approaching him perhaps too carefully for her statement. He turned to face her in the meantime. And then, there she was, right before him, unable to look up at him. Suddenly he seemed so unbelievably, unreachably tall.

He spoke again. "Did Darcy tell you why she and I couldn't be together?"

Jane nodded. "She told me everything." She said.

Leonard inhaled and held his breath. "Well," he said then, "I choose not to ask what 'everything' means."

At that moment, Jane felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. She finally looked up, and found him smiling lightly, too.

"I think you chose well." Dropping her gaze again, Jane assured him, and bit her lip.

"Thank you." He replied, apparently still smiling. A long silence took over the room then.

"Where is he?" Leonard asked then, his voice quiet but somewhat stern. "I mean, where has he been all the time?"

Suddenly feeling her heart hammer almost in her throat, Jane panicked internally. Of course she knew who was Leonard asking about. She knew that precisely.

"I don't know," was the only answer she could muster at the moment. However, it was the most honest and truest one she could give. "He's…"she continued after a while spent on several attempts to calm down somehow, "he's away. And I don't know where. No one knows. But he promised to come back… to me." She revealed, surprised that it was the talking that helped ease her heart and breathing and the disturbed, restless memories.

"Who is he?" he demanded.

"That's quite a question," she said evasively. "He… he has knowledge… the kind of knowledge that might be too advanced and too… perhaps too dangerous…" she replied with difficulty, closing her eyes firmly and hoping she hadn't just revealed too much.

"Are SHIELD looking for him?" unfortunately, he hit her with a too direct, dangerously specific question.

"Well…"she sighed, and shook her head. _Screw that_. "Perhaps that's the main, true reason why SHIELD still keeps me around, you know. To get to him."

He held his silence for a long, long time then, and she could feel the raging battle of thoughts inside him.

"Could he be the one you told me about while you visited me at the dorm? The one my friend in the photograph reminded you of?" he asked then.

_Beware Jane, this ice is getting too thin._ "Yeah." She heard her voice say. "It's…" _What did you call him then? It was something like…_ "It's Donald." She blurted out finally.

"Hm," was his only reply. Feeling utterly miserable, Jane waited.

"I guess that isn't his true name..?" he said then, quietly, barely above a whisper.

"No." Jane managed. _Please don't ask, please don't ask..!_

"Good." He said, after what seemed like an hour of torture. "And no, I don't want to know it. You were clearly forbidden to share this information, and I do not mean to force it out."

Jane breathed, her eyelids sliding shut once more.

"I only need to know," he went on in the same quiet, serious manner, "are you still waiting for him?"

Breathing in and out again, Jane knew immediately the only possible answer. "No. Not anymore. Not ever again." She said aloud. The relief behind those words was overwhelming. _Not anymore, not ever. Thor, I want you to live, the same way as I want to live. Let's just live our lives from now on. Our separate lives._

Another unbelievably long, silent moment passed between them, but this time it did not seem to matter that much. The time once again became her ally, not her judge, Jane realized and smiled internally. _In some sense_, she thought immediately, recalling the possible future job that awaited her in Boston.

"Then I'd like to ask…" he began then, calling her back to reality, his voice still quiet, but the soft, and maybe a bit if insecure kind of quiet now, "I was thinking if – if you'd like to go out this evening. With me." He said and touched the bent corner of a paper lying on the desk.

She smiled for real, waiting a little while before parting her lips to give an answer. "No." she said. "Not just '_like'_." She added promptly, feeling his confused stare on her. "I'd _love_ to." She revealed and looked up to him.

"Jane!" He said, his tone and expression instantly making her feel bad about the way she had first answered his question.

"I'm sorry." She whispered softly and held out one hand to curl her fingers around his. "And where will you take me?" She asked.

"Would you mind The Monster's? They're open again." He suggested, clasping her hands in his palms.

"Why not?" feeling her heartbeat drum in her ears, Jane replied.

"All right then." He said, looking at her. "And when should I pick you up?"

Jane swallowed, lowering her gaze to her hands in his. He ran his thumbs gently over her knuckles. "I think..." she began, quite unable to think, in fact, "I… I think I will have to stay here a little longer today, considering I arrived just now, so… What about half past seven?"

"I'll be there." He replied.

"Hm." Jane nodded, and they both remained still. After a moment, it seemed as if they both refused to let go of one another, which fact made Jane smile widely.

"Where are your shoes, Dr. Foster?" he inquired then, having her look down on her black and white, striped socks. She curled her toes.

"Um," she chuckled, "they have a day off." She said and looked up to meet his eyes. They were full of joy again, and the green color of his irises shimmered at her. They were simply the most wonderful thing she had ever laid her gaze upon. His lashes fluttered lightly.

"I'll have to go back now." He said with a regret in his voice, but smiling faintly. "Eric must be getting nervous. He observed me quite suspiciously when I was leaving our office."

"Of course." She murmured, looking back down. He loosened his grip and was letting her go slowly, until they held just by the fingertips. Some sort of emptiness started to fill her from the inside, but that didn't last long.

She felt a light pull and she followed it, stepping a little closer. Her heartbeat skyrocketed as she sensed the movement and then his breathing against her skin. And everything around her just turned into a blur and ceased to be when he kissed her, gently, so gently as if she were made of glass so thin she would fall apart under his touch.

It might have lasted minutes and even hours, and Jane knew it still wouldn't be too long. It was a mere touch, soft and tender, but there was everything she needed to know. And she could never get enough.

"Half past seven," he said then, and let go. And was gone.

Jane wasn't sure how she'd gotten back to her chair, but one thing was for sure. This will be a painfully long day, but it should be worth it.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

_**A.N.:** Sorry for the long wait again, I know. Well, real life, what else can I say? _

_Both songs mentioned in this chapter are by Dream Theater, Lenny's favorite band ;) _

_And as always, if you read this till the end and liked it, please, let me know in a review. I'll be happy to answer :)_


	14. The Sixth Interlude

_**AN:** _Ok guys, such a long pause again, I know. And I admit that this one was really, really long. I thought the story from this point on would be so easy to write, but well, it wasn't. I was waiting so long and had written so much to get here, and when I did, I simply lost my motivation. It took me some time to regain it, but it seems to me that now it's fully back :)

Things happened in my real life in the meantime... I passed my final exams and I'm through the the major part of my postgrad studies. Things got a bit worse in my job, so this year I'll probably have to look for something else (and finish the thesis in the process). As you can see, I expect a busy time again, so I cannot give any guarantee about the next updates. However, I mean to continue this story of mine, so don't be sad if there's another long pause - the update will appear eventually.

And now to the story itself. As you remember, I have inserted also a set of interludes into the storyline. They describe some of the earlier events, and taken together, they make up a little separate story on their own, and follow their own timeline. This new chapter is an interlude, too, but this time we abandon all the familiar timelines and are going much deeper into the past than we've ever been. I think you may also expect one or two important answers. Well, you'll see :) And of course, I strongly suggest listening to the song cited here. Apart from being absolutely badass/cool/amazing, it served as a really big inspiration to me.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: The Sixth Interlude<strong>

_Letting go, _

_What's defining me, letting go  
>I can't make them believe, or reason<br>I can tell by their reaction  
>They don't have my back<br>I'm letting go, _

_All that I am_

_(James LaBrie – Letting Go)_

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

It was a mistake. Another and final terrible error closing this downward spiral. He knew now. He should not have done that.

Everyone else had forsaken him, but those blue eyes had never been able to. And Loki could see it. He saw that Thor would never let him go.

However, Loki chose otherwise. He chose to leave – and to leave all the responsibility behind. It was just too much to bear… Or was it?

Now there was nothing. He felt it in his soul there was nothing left for him. The hope was gone with the last remnants of light, and only darkness that had swallowed him remained.

It was outside his imagination what would come now. All the legends seemed so pointless at this moment. There were no stories about what happens in the nothingness. Those who fall in there are lost. And there he was, endlessly falling into the land of nowhere. His fear was melting into madness. He never wanted this. Not like this.

Suddenly, something happened. A glimpse of reality; of a different world Loki could not recognize. And there was someone, someone who was looking back at him.

But then, just before those unknown, grey hands could reach and seize him, just before his senses could leave him, there came a pull. The darkness embraced him once more, and then he could truly feel he was falling. Uncontrollably, Loki was approaching the ground below him, no matter how hard he tried to reach out through the green, misty light above and hold onto the shimmering stars on the night sky.

The impact was hard. He could feel his ribs crack – the same sound and pain as when Mjollnir had been laid on his chest. But the pain was good. He could not have wished for a better cure from the previous madness.

A woman came to find him. She was armed, supposedly a soldier, but still just a subtle, fragile, Midgardian lass. If he were in the mood for such thought, he would consider it laughable.

But then, for a pitifully short moment, he let himself sink into slight interest and even a touch of amusement at her stirred emotions. Clearly, she was experiencing a shock, a situation she was completely unprepared for. And yet, she was surprisingly good at suppressing her fear. She would not scream and run. Such a brave little thing. He felt prompted to try her courage a bit more, and the outcome was intriguing. Even though he made her weapon useless, and even though he blocked her contact with her comrades, she was still ready to oppose him. How bold, and how foolish.

Well, and what a fool _he_ was. How could he expect that his reality would not follow him to this world? The dying Bifrost emerged from the hole in the sky like a roaring monster, and made the land below a place of sheer destruction – the building before him shattered under the force of the Bifrost beam, and the weapons the humans had made to kill one another were ignited, and awakened with deafening roar and blinding fire.

For a moment, he was able to protect the fierce little woman, but then his shield disappeared under the last flicker of the Bifrost, his skin and flesh cracked open and she melted away.

_A quick death_, Loki managed to think. _Lucky one. _

And then, the pain had taken over him. Nothing had ever hurt so much. There was a crack in his chest, he could feel it too well, but before he could realize anything else, he crossed the verge of fainting. He dreamed nightmares of Odin swinging a large axe and hitting his back again and again, and of Thor smashing his chest, crushing the ribs and lungs. He could not breathe, he could not move. He could only watch as hungry worms emerged, finding their way between his broken bones to feast on his insides.

His own cries awakened him. Lying on his side, Loki squinted through the receding darkness. Plain, barren land was about him, and last, fainting stars shone on the western sky. There were no detectable signs of the disaster whatsoever. The Bifrost beam must have pushed him someplace else. He was alone.

Complete exhaustion overwhelmed his body and mind, but his wounds and everything inside him burned, and kept him from falling asleep again.

_If only I could_… he thought after a while. But what? If he could, would he take back all the things he had done? Would he return to his home? But how could he do that? Asgard was not his home. Jotunheim could have been, but he wasn't welcome there from the very start. Where was his home then?

Nowhere.

The answer was so awfully simple.

He let out a painful, short laugh. The Bifrost was gone. Gone! What can they do now, the great Odin and mighty Thor? No one can chase him here. They can just sit and watch.

_Just watch me burn this place, watch me destroy what you protected_, Loki conspired and laughed again, until his body twisted with spasm. He choked on his own, clotting blood, but each attempt to cough was equal to setting his chest on fire. He thought this horrible moment would finally be the end, but eventually, squirming and grimacing with pain, he managed to calm down, his hands full of grass and dirt.

Sucking in the air in quick, jagged breaths, he lay still. This was madness, and he knew that.

No matter what, nothing he could do to this world would change the past. He could rule and enslave all the humans here, he could see that, but would that make any difference? Nothing could change how he felt, nothing could change who he was.

And that was it. He could no longer stand this – the weight of his existence felt just too much. To be Loki was unbearable. One second, he wished he had never learned the truth, and could continue his former life as the young prince of Asgard, and the other, he realized what an enormous lie it all had always been. Odin was not his father, Frigga was not his mother, and they had always been aware of it, and Odin had always treated Loki accordingly. It all made sense now, it all made sense… Thor and Frigga had shown true affection and concern, and one day, he could perhaps overcome this wall of lies and consider them a true family, but that chance had been eliminated by his rebellion. Loki was aware he had betrayed their trust, that he single-handedly destroyed what might have been saved.

And now he was alone, without any home, without any future, in the world of mortals.

He wanted to escape, if just for a moment; to become someone else, if just for a minute. He would even trade places with one of the pitiful mortals… what did they actually had to care for? Just to feed themselves and get some sleep each night? To pursue a pointless ambition, work until exhaustion, and then die? Disgusted with the prospect, he rolled carefully on his back, hissing with the stabbing pain, and looked at the brightening sky. He held his arms before him and inspected the last tatters of his clothes in the first light of dawn. _But then again, many of these humans seem to feel genuinely happy like that_, he thought and fell asleep.

When he woke again, night hovered above him and he knew what he must do.

He could erase his memories, but that would serve nothing. He would still remain the person he was, not to mention his memory would eventually – and no matter how unwelcome – return. No, he had to do something more effective, and he finally found out what.

He had seen it in one of his dreams, and now he recalled it. It was something the teachers and Frigga had been always hesitant to talk about, but still, Loki had learned enough on the subject himself. It would be painful, but the pain was the least that mattered to him now. What could be worse than his current situation? And so he set his jaw and focused. He needed to search his mind thoroughly, assemble all the information and experience he had, and plan the experiment.

And then, when the stars started to fade again under the new dawn, he was ready. Ready to kill a part of himself – the part that was unwanted, the part he had never asked for, the part he hated, the part that represented all he wanted gone from his life.

First he had to focus even more, and sink deep into his core. He had to precisely map his personality, to discern what he wanted to keep and what should be erased, like a surgeon drawing lines on a body he was going to cut. However, this initial step turned out to be much more difficult than Loki expected. The borderlines were blurred and obscured, almost impossible to trace. He was determined to get rid of everything that was binding him to the past, and so decided that it was better to cut more than less, but in the end, he was forced to draw his line rather vaguely. And then, it was time to cut.

A powerful energy source was needed for this – he alone was too weak, and even at his full strength, Loki doubted he would have accomplished such a task without exhausting himself to death. However, the Casket still lingered within him; he had just to reach through the layers of the dimensions, grasp its force and make it serve his purpose.

Soon a dim light started to illuminate the close surroundings – his own skin radiated it. The grass around bristled and the earth underneath his body was getting warmer and warmer with each heartbeat. But then Loki had to be honest with himself – the procedure felt unbearable; impossible to do. He himself was fighting against it. Each fraction of his mind twisted violently in protest, all his muscles and inner organs felt like being ripped in two. What a fool he was, again! What had he been thinking? That this would make him happy, that this would make this place feel like home to him? No, this was nonsense! He should stop it while there still was a chance!

He held up his hand, reaching out, as if to try and catch something that was escaping him, but he had to squint against the sharp light. His skin and the earth below him shone and burned. The tears that streamed down from his eyes felt like boiling. The energy flow could not be reversed. It was too late. It was done, almost done… He still saw Thor reaching out to him, screaming his name, he still could see all those recent events – Laufey, Odin's weary eyes, the Bifrost, Thor's rage, the Destroyer, the mortal woman, the one whom Thor will never see again – but they were all fading away, and he was falling, falling again, ever faster, ever deeper.

* * *

><p>First, he realized a rather sharp light, penetrating his eyelids. He was awake. And so he opened his eyes. After a moment of gazing aimlessly into the blue sky above, he decided to sit and look around.<p>

A plain wasteland. The blades of grass were moving with the gusts of wind. Clouds were slowly gathering in the south. For a moment, he was trying to figure out where was this place, but then he realized something else. He was in pain. Each time his ribcage moved to breathe in and out, it felt like being stabbed. He removed a few remnants of some kind of leather jacket that remained on him, and inspected his torso. He was bruised all over. Reaching behind his back with much difficulty, he tried to touch the area that felt like being on fire. The first touch nearly cost him his consciousness, but at least he found that he had also an awful gash across his back, and that it was deep, but not bleeding.

After some time, he gathered what strength he could find in him, and stood up. Upon looking down, he discovered a strange kind of pattern embedded into the ground in the shape of a circle around him. The grass was burned to ashes there, and the pattern in the earth felt very rigid. It did not show any signs of falling apart or flattening under his weight. He could only guess what that meant. Anyway, he did not see any chance to really find out, and thus he decided to start walking. He did not know where, but tried to keep in mind the position of the sun to ensure he did not walk in circles. And as there was an extreme lack of ideas as to where he was and how he got here, he simply focused on his stride. To keep going, that was all that mattered.

Finally, sometime after noon, he saw a slight change in the landscape. It was a road, or something very similar to it. He decided to consider it his goal and resolved on reaching it. Those last strides felt uncountable, impossible. But then, he did it, he was there. A sound and a movement caught his attention for a second. But even turning his head was a too laborious thing to do now. And why even bother? He was at the end of his journey. And as a reward he let himself give up to the overwhelming exhaustion and sweet oblivion. Hitting the ground felt like falling into silky cushions.

* * *

><p>"Is he dead, mom? Mom?!"<p>

"Are you calling the police, daddy?"

The meaning of the words came to him with a considerable delay, he realized. The voices were kind of small, thin, but nonetheless urgent. Annoyingly so. But the appeal in them was pulling him back to the reality.

There were two other voices, but significantly softer and harder to focus on. Then one of them approached. Someone touched his face, and he opened his eyes once more. The sun was on the same spot when he remembered it to be the last time he had seen it.

"He's conscious." A woman above him spoke, clearly and calmly. "Sir? Sir, can you hear me? Can you hear my voice?" She asked again, studying him intensely.

He parted his lips and from some place full of pain deep inside him, there came a feeble sound.

"Look at my finger." She said, and held her hand in front of his face and then moved it to the side. He did as he was bid, following the movement. She wore a tight, white glove. "Have you difficulty in breathing?" She asked, a line appearing between her eyebrows.

"Slight." He sighed.

"Did you walk across this field to get here?"

"Yes." He answered.

"Do you remember what happened before that?"

"No." He said truly, after some hesitation.

She smiled lightly, running her thumb over his cheek. "Don't worry now, the help is coming. You'll be all right."

He could tell she was confident about her statement, and he chose to believe her.

"You remind me of someone I knew." She said, aligning his arms and inspecting his body.

"Who?" He asked, mildly curious.

"My husband's son." She answered simply, the line between her brows appearing again. "What about your back? Any injuries there?"

"A cut." He replied. "I think."

"Yeah. Can you turn just a bit? I'll help you." She announced and then he felt her hands slide under his shoulder and side to provide him with the additional strength to roll slightly. The movement made him hiss with pain.

"Well, it's a big gash, but it's not bleeding." She said surprisingly peacefully. "Looks like burned…" she thought aloud, then shifted a bit and touched a spot on his chest. "Strange…" she muttered to herself.

"What's his name?" he asked then. "Of the one I remind you of."

"Well, he's not among us anymore, but it was Leonard. I'm Julie, by the way. You?"

"Leonard," he spoke hoarsely, frowning.

"You're Leonard, too?" She asked, obviously intrigued.

"No, I– " he tried, but then his eyelids started to feel immensely heavy again. However, one thing was certain – Leonard wasn't his name. Because as far as he knew, he had none.

* * *

><p>The sun shone brightly, and the subtle breeze was inviting him outside. And so he stepped out the door, looked around, observing the day, and then sat down, the wooden planks of the veranda floor squeaking a bit in protest. The white of the house contrasted with the blue of the sky and the green of the field. All the colors were so bright and intense, shining sharp into his eyes, reducing the recent events into a mere shadow. He was back to his full health now, and what had happened in the hospital belonged to the past now, no matter how painful and frustrating it had been. But the past… for everyone else it meant a great land of all their experience, so rich, and both sweet and sad. But to him it was like a dried-up riverbed – something used to be there for sure, but now there was no sign of it. <em>But when the rain pours, even the dried-up riverbeds come back to life<em>; he thought and looked up and toward the blue, cloudless sky. Smiling bitterly, he rested his back against the wall and sipped on the coffee he brought with him.

The sounds of horse's neigh and people's chatter spread around with the mild wind, and mingled with noises from a laptop. The said device sat on a small table just a few feet from him, and a well-known person of those last few days was watching and enjoying her regular dose of cooking shows, which was still kind of enigma to him, as she cooked rather scarcely. She was well over fifty, and was related to the family that had found him and helped him. Her name was Sheila, and she was the owner of this place.

She was nestled comfortably in her chair, and had her thin legs on the table before her. A tress of her dry, rough, sandy hair was wrapped around her finger. "Ah." She said at a sound of an incoming message, and then leaned over to read it.

"The Greenhills will be calling in about 20 minutes." She announced, and took a sip of her coffee. "Julie says they have something interesting to discuss with you." She added.

"Oh." He nodded. "What might that be?"

"Hard to tell… Either Lena drew a new picture for you," Sheila speculated, "Or something _really_ interesting."

"Nah, don't be so cruel." He smiled. "Lena does have some talent, you must admit that."

"I used to draw similarly, and do I seem to you like having my paintings displayed in Louvre?" Sheila asked, peering at him.

"I've known you just for a couple weeks. You may still have some secrets before me." He observed playfully.

"Hey, look who's talkin' about havin' secrets!" She laughed, watching him over her shoulder. "But as for mine, you don't really wanna know them."

"Oh, truly?"

"Believe it or not, these old bones have lived long enough to make some experience, no worries." She assured him, stretching her arms.

Pursing his lips, he ran a thumb over the rim of his cup. "Perhaps I also have an interesting past."

"No doubt about that." Sheila agreed, running her fingers through her hair. "What happened to you lately is interesting enough itself."

"It is." He answered, not knowing what else to say.

A long pause followed then, until she broke the silence with a rather unexpected question. "Do you like your new name?" She said simply.

He frowned. In truth, he hadn't got around to give this matter a proper thought yet. Moreover, this question seemed to come a bit late now, and he couldn't see much sense in it. "I'm used to it." After a while, he gave the most honest answer he could think of.

"Of course you are! I'm used to it, too!" She said, apparently not accepting his reply. "But do you _like_ it?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I think it's too early to judge that."

"Okay." Sheila muttered, reaching out to make the program on her laptop continue. But after a moment she paused it again. "You can change it, you know." She offered. "It was kinda the first thing we came up with."

"Like I said, I'm used to it." He said, shaking the coffee in his cup. "But then…" he hesitated a moment before making this thought official. "I think I do like it. I like being Leonard."

* * *

><p><em>..Two weeks later..<em>

It was dark all over, late at night, but his consciousness refused to retreat in the land of dreams, his eyes would not stay closed. Lights moved along the wall opposite the window, and then disappeared, together with the noise of the vehicle.

This place was utterly different from the fields of grass he had come from. Everything here was so much busier than the silent, slow pace of life he had encountered in Texas. But it was not worse. Just different. In fact, he very quickly had come to like Boston and its noise, the lights, all the bustle and never-ending tumult. And he liked the Greenhills, who had taken him in. He had always welcomed the on-line conversation with them, and now he was even happier to be with them here. It was never quiet around them, they just kept his mind occupied all the time.

Well, until the night had come. And now, Leonard and his thoughts were finally alone again.

"Now, where shall we start?" He asked himself quietly, staring into the ceiling. It was futile to oppose his mind in its obvious eagerness to discover something, just anything, about his past.

Lately his investigation focused on his accent. It was undeniable his way of speaking was quite different from the people who surrounded him. He was told his accent was British. And thus, Leonard's main topic for those last few days and weeks became the United Kingdom and anything concerning it.

He sighed, frowning. There were just so many possibilities. He could have been born in the UK, and raised, to be sure, but then he could have moved to someplace else. Or he could have been born to British people who lived somewhere else. Or he was born somewhere else, and then moved to the UK…

Well, this was nonsense. He must have come from somewhere. Everyone's, or nearly everyone's origin on this planet could be traced back, taking all the information technology into account. So why no one had found anything about him yet? Or _they_ had already, but refused to tell him? Or _they_ had always known, but had their reasons not to tell anyone else?

Leonard jumped from his bed, holding his head in his hands. Sometimes it seemed to him he was unable to control the flow of his own thoughts. All the possible ideas and scenarios came to him in such a quick succession they threatened to melt in one big mass of chaos.

Was this a sign of his memory coming back? Julie said it might feel like that. She was a physician, perhaps she should know at least something about it. Or perhaps he should see a psychologist, as Julie suggested.

Or maybe just a glass of cold water would do, Leonard thought when he found himself in the kitchen.

It was kind of relaxing to hear the sound of the water being poured. He gulped one glass quickly, and poured another. Then he turned, and his eyes stopped at a postcard that was stuck to the silvery surface of the fridge door by a piece of magnet. The sign on it said that it had been sent from London. He walked toward it, sipping at his glass of water, and watched. There was a bridge, a big wheel, a tall tower with a clock… But none of those seemed in any sense familiar to him. No matter how much he focused and studied the pictures, they refused to trigger any cascade of recollection whatsoever. Confused and sad, Leonard finally decided to turn away. He paced to the dining table, and sat down. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair, and eventually, he folded his hands on the table and laid his head down, forehead first. Then he turned to the side and stared blankly out of the window.

The sound of someone approaching nearly woke him up. He _was_ tired after all.

"Hey. Can't sleep?" Julie greeted him, taking her seat by the table. Her fair, slightly reddish hair was bound in a braid; her grey-green eyes were weary but shining with friendliness and empathy.

"Hm." He confirmed, studying her. She did not appear to him as feeling well. "And I'm not alone, I guess."

"Yeah." She nodded with a soft smile. "Same old reason. Or maybe I am just a bit old for it."

"Oh, you're right." Leonard replied casually, with slightly elevated eyebrows. "As I think about it, you're actually one of the oldest persons I've met." He explained.

"Wha – "

"I _recall_ I met." He added promptly, grinning wearily.

"You…" Julie breathed out, shaking her head with disbelief. She got up then, poured a glass of water for herself, and sat back with a light sigh.

"Seems your child insists on keeping you busy even before it's born." Leonard guessed then.

She grinned at that. "Trust me, only when the little one is born I'll know what it means to be busy."

"Still," Leonard sighed. "I envy you." He said, fingering the rim of his glass.

"What, being pregnant?" Julie laughed softly, lifting one brow.

"Well…" he shrugged, "your state has a definite end. And quite a happy one for that matter. The living being inside you keeps your mind occupied… Your thoughts are focused on your child. You are looking forward to the future. I, on the other hand, feel lost. I have no foundations to stand on, and this state may last for next few weeks, years… who knows. And when my memories come back, will it be something worth celebrating? What if there's something terrible in my past – which is quite likely, considering that no family member or friend of mine tried to contact me so far. I am afraid of what my past might be hiding, and I am afraid of what the future may reveal to me. And so – "

"So the only point in time you must stick to is _now_." Julie cut in resolutely. She was not exactly frowning, but her eyes were hard. Leonard watched her in silence.

"It's the only logical outcome of the deduction you just made, isn't it?" Julie went on, softening a bit the tone of her voice.

"It seems it is." Leonard had to admit.

"Precisely, sir." She smiled. "So?"

"So what?"

"So stop thinking about it!" Julie explained, somewhat surprised her thought hadn't been obvious to Leonard. "I know it's easy to say, but I mean it." She insisted. "It seems that in your case you can't really speed up the recollection – so why even bother? Why let your life slip away while you agonize about the past?"

"Hm." Leonard murmured, his eyes cast down.

"Hm..?" Julie repeated, a bit amused. "Some may even envy _you_, you know." She added.

"And could you please enlighten me as to why would anyone do that?" He asked, the sarcasm bubbling in his tone.

"Well, you'd be surprised how many people would give anything for a new beginning." She answered calmly, her confidence unshaken. "A chance to start all over again, to erase old, depressing memories, memories of something horrible… There are lots of reasons, you know." She paused, piercing him with her meaningful stare. "Anyway, our lives are short. Too short, sometimes." Julie said then with a sad undertone. "So I believe we shouldn't waste our time on something we cannot change. Just take this all as a chance to start anew, and let the past be."

"The thing is," Leonard sighed, rubbing the surface of the glass with his thumbs, "I only wish I had the certainty that I'm justified to do just that."

"And why not?"

"I don't know… I just have a feeling that as soon as I build a new life my old one will come back to destroy it."

"Oh, come on!" She frowned now for real.

"No, Julie, I'm being serious. Don't you… Aren't you afraid of me?" Leonard asked a bit louder than he intended, and a soft echo could be heard after he finished his question. "I'm a complete stranger after all, aren't I? With an unknown past… I would be very cautious about myself if I were you."

Julie said nothing, but kept on viewing him with her mild, yet uncompromising eyes. "Afraid?" she spoke at last, softly but clearly. "No dear. Quite the opposite. The moment you joined us was a relief you cannot imagine."

"In what sense?" Leonard asked, letting out a short laugh of disbelief.

"You see," Julie breathed in and out, sorting her thoughts. "Let me tell you something my husband never would. The thing is, Mike and his late son used to have very different views on things. They argued a lot, until they stopped talking completely. They stopped seeing each other, and then the accident happened and Lenny died. Just like that, without warning. It was an ordinary evening, just like any evening before… It changes people when they lose their children. Mike blamed himself and I thought that the guilt will choke him to death very soon. I was trying everything - to break that wall, to get near to him, to remind him of his other two children… When I got pregnant I thought that the new child could get him out of it, if nothing else. But I was wrong. It didn't work." She said, and gave a shrug, lowering her eyes. "But you did." She added.

Leonard lacked words to break the following moment of silence, so he just turned his head and looked Julie in the eyes, and then back out of the window.

The silence was getting intense, and so Julie considered it appropriate to explain her statements further. "He suddenly seemed so focused ever since we'd found you." She began again. "To me it was like… like he resolved to help you, and that resolve became a new anchor in his life. He never spoke to me openly of how he truly felt about it all, but I know that in this way he got a chance to make some kind of amends, you know; to fill the gap of what he should have done or said before."

"It won't bring his son back though." Leonard commented right away.

"Yeah, I know." Julie admitted quickly. "And he knows. But at least he can ease the remorse a bit. See what I mean?"

"Seems that I am chance personified." Leonard answered after a moment, focusing on his glass again.

"Yeah… yeah, that fits pretty well." Julie nodded, letting out a quiet, weary, but merry laugh. She sighed then. "So, chance personified, what about going back to bed?"

Leonard blinked. "I don't know." He said lazily.

"Oh!" Julie rolled her eyes and stood up. "Come on, this city has plenty to see." She announced, patting him on his shoulder. "We have a busy schedule for the morning."

In the end, he followed her, and back in his bed, he had to admit his eyelids felt much heavier now. His last effort was to try to imagine the things to come rather than dig in his mind for the events of the past. And it went pretty well. There were so many possibilities, after all. And perhaps for the first time he realized how much luck he had encountered so far.

He could have never made it to the road, back in Texas. He could have been found by a very different sort of people. He could have been stuck in the middle of nowhere. He could have died. Yes, he could have.

But instead, he met a family that seemed to need him as much as he needed them. And Leonard was finally able to admit that.

With these thoughts, so strangely satisfying, he eventually drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>The air was warm and humid, and the vivid chatter of countless voices filled the space to the last bit.<p>

Leonard chose to let the noise just pass by, and was focused on the flowing motion under the glittering water surface. The rays glided just above the tank bed with amazing synchronicity and ease, as if all of them put together made up a higher order organism. The Aquarium as a whole had been wonderful, but this just seemed like an appropriate ending. But then, a new sound came to him, disturbing him from his thoughts.

"Now, will you show Lenny the trick?" Mike asked his little son, supporting him so the child could reach into the water.

"Yeah." The little Danny confirmed, biting at his lip as he focused to steady his hand palm down just below the surface. He seemed so absorbed by this task that the desired result in the form of one of the rays coming up startled him. However, he calmed down immediately and enjoyed the interest his hand in the water stirred between the rays.

"Who would have guessed rays enjoyed being touched." Leonard observed, watching with keen curiosity.

"Clearly, everyone needs a little back scratching sometimes. " Mike commented, watching the creatures move under the tiny hand of his son.

Leonard answered with a soft smile and leaned over to dive his own palm under the surface.

"Speaking of," Mike started again in a somewhat clearer voice, "the deal has been made."

"The job in the docks?"

"Yep."

Leonard closed his fingers and opened them again. "When do I start?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the creatures in the water.

"Well," Mike shrugged. "Whenever you wish to. I suppose you'd like to see a bit more of the city…"

"Tomorrow is perfectly fine." Leonard cut in, smiling lightly, and turned his head to exchange looks with his companions. "It's about time I started my new life." He added then in a slightly lower voice, turned back and watched as the rays swarmed and rubbed their soft backs against his palm.

* * *

><p>ooOOOoo<p>

_**AN:**_ _So, my friends, end of chapter 14! What do you think? Let me know! :)_


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